


Cult of Cause

by Crowley_KingOfHell



Category: Original Story, Original characters - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Cannibalism, F/F, F/M, Horror, M/M, cultist activity, escaped prisoner, fun bad guys?, more tags to come, scifi, self harm/self sacrifice, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 07:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11270742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_KingOfHell/pseuds/Crowley_KingOfHell
Summary: Action? Adventure? Cannibalism? Yes.Sal is a villain trying to be a hero with everything at stake





	1. Chapter 1

The soft clicking of heels on waxed tile reverberated off the stone walls in the hallway occupied with a lone woman. Dressed in a simple white pantsuit, the young woman stepped carefully in her short heels, closing the distance on a single door. Harsh lighting reflected on the polished gray floor tiles, the matching gray walls muted the unsettling look of the corridor. A mild discomfort was resting on the slim shoulders of the young brunette as she stopped a few feet from the thick metal door. She took a deep breath and swiped a magnetic key card on the handle of the door.

The room was not lit until the door swung in. A censor clicked and the ceiling burst into light, one row of fluorescent lights at a time. With a loud "thunk" followed by steel clunking, the door closed and locked behind the woman. She stood in front of the door feeling her pulse quicken as she laid eyes on the one and only thing stored in the room: a man. He appeared to be suspended by his arms, hands encased from the wrist up in round metal cuffs which sat in rotating cups in the ceiling, likewise for his feet from the ankle down. Apart from the nearly silent sound of the prisoner's stifled breathing the room was quiet, until the visiting woman found the courage to approach him. She noted his face was partially concealed behind a spit guard mask, attached to two hoses that twisted up into the ceiling. He was dressed only in a cheap pair of light blue scrub pants, seeing his pale chest and arms the woman thought inwardly the lack of color made him look sickly. The question of whether or not they fed him here briefly crossed her mind. 

Clearing her throat, she finally spoke, "Hello. My name is Claire Freights." There was no response, Claire wasn't even sure the prisoner was conscious. She waited a moment before continuing, "I'm a writer, and I know quite a bit about you. As much as one could know without having ever met you 'til now." The prisoner scoffed under his breath. Claire's heart jumped at his first acklnowledgment, she couldn't help but smile widely, "I came to discuss the possibility of a book deal. I want exclusive rights to your story. I have connections in high places, I could - in exchange - get you more... comfortable accommodations?" There was a weighted pause between them as he looked up at her. 

The prisoner had stopped listening after his initial scoff. His eyes were trained on her neck, where her pulse was jumping underneath her skin. A light sweat was slowly forming on his forehead and neck. He could hear his own pulse thundering in his ears as his face flushed. "I can only give verbal consent," he croaked at last, voice muffled by the spit guard, tearing his eyes away from her throat to look properly at her. He shrugged his arms and nodded to the cuffs, "I can't very well sign anything." Claire stared, mouth slightly agape, at his eyes. They were black pools she felt she could drown in. After a brief delay she smiled brilliantly, "A verbal agreement is good enough for me. I'm sure everything in this room is under surveillance anyway, so your consent is on the record." She hesitated before following up, "Is there anything specific I can do for you in return?" His lightless eyes bored into her's for seconds that felt like eons before he shook his head and closed his eyes. 

Claire felt like she should have some sort of parting speech but the prisoner appeared to be done talking. Satisfied at the very least with getting the first hurdle of her next venture out of the way, she made her way back to the door and slid her keycard again. As the locks hummed Claire turned back around and asked a final question, "Do they feed you here?" A low chuckled came from the prisoner, the sound bounced of the flat surfaces of the walls and floor around them. He looked at her once more, black eyes now white, and replied, "Nothing that I eat."  
  


A few short weeks later two suited men sat in an interrogation room, sharing a table with a younger third man, dressed in riot gear. The ticking of a watch clicked quietly from the wrist of one of the suited men, a badge hung on his lapel offered the name Waters. The younger man looked to his partner's badge which read Hannison. "We'll keep this short. I know you need time to process what you've seen today. But you understand why you need to be debriefed?" Waters spoke first. "I don't know how this happened..." the young man said to no one in particular. "Brandon, we need to ask you a few questions so we can find out why this happened." Hannison tilted his head to get the attention of the down cast eyes seated across from him. Brandon looked up and around the room, then to the ceiling with a panicked look, "I don't feel comfortable here." Waters rubbed his eyes, "How about this, son, we'll take you somewhere else to talk, but you get started on the way there?" Brandon shook his head and swallowed, "No. I'll be okay. I'll answer anything I can."

Claire smiled at her computer screen as she checked in to see the amount of views her latest video had accumulated. She'd just released a teaser for her book which was nearing the end of completion, and was thrilled to see a growing buzz of excitement from her loyal readers. She sat in her apartment in the center of a small city, smiling at her notebook, ideas piling up as she thought of more promotions to spread the word about her new title. Working happily in her office, she never heard the low groan of her front door opening, or the rustling of a figure moving through the rest of her apartment. The intruder found their prize easily- Claire's expired keycard from the prison, which she'd carelessly tossed on her coffee table in her living room. Pocketing the card, they slipped undetected from the woman's home. The door closed with a clack behind the burglar as they flew down the stairs, peeling their ski mask off to reveal an aged blonde man. One hand in his pocket grasping the card, he slowed down as he reached the last few stairs and strolled out the front door.  


A stolen rental car, as well as sixteen hours of driving later and the blonde burglar was confidently marching up toward the office doors of the same prison Claire had visited, months before, the minute the doors unlocked. Towering white walls stood out of the mud yard surrounding the prison, silver metal doors with slivers of glass panes for windows standing between blonde man and his final goal. He entered and approached a small sign in window across from one lone door and received a confused look from the woman behind the desk.

"We don't allow visitation here, sir." she said bluntly. "Oh I'm not a civilian here for a visitation, I'm here on behalf of Claire Freights, she's publishing a book on DC-01. She's met with him already but asked for me to come get a few questions answered. I assure you this will only take a few minutes." He a put on a friendly smile. The woman behind the desk stared at him for a moment before sighing, "Do you have any proof of your affiliation with her?"

The blonde man produced a yellow envelope, "She wrote a brief letter explaining the situation, you see she's very busy with the final stages of editing, so she's sent me into the field to tidy up her details before publishing. She also sent the keycard you had provided her during her visit. You can give her a call at the number on the letter, however I'm not certain how long it would take her to get back to you unfortunately." he chuckled. The receptionist's face softened as she read the letter, "Alright. I still need to scan a copy of your license, though." 

After leaving his wallet with the security office and being subjected to a body scan he was cleared to speak to the head of security, a tall, broad shouldered lady, and the prison Warden, a large man with an equally large mustache. "Regarding your visit you said you had questions. How many do you have?" the burly Warden crossed his arms and looked down at the blonde burglar. "Just two." he answered. The Warden grunted, "I'm sure I don't need to make you aware of the risks you assume to your person and life upon entering." The blonde nodded.

The head of security, a very formidable looking woman, gestured to the monitors behind her, "There's no emergency exit, there's no back up containment if he escapes his restraints. He wears a spit guard for our safety, the hoses attached to the mask can be used to deliver a powerful chemical to knock him out if he damages his restraints. We will give you one keycard to enter and exit the room. If you lose it or break it you're out of luck, no one will be sent in to get you and the door can not be opened remotely. Do you understand everything I have told you?" The blonde young man swallowed, though his mouth was dry, and nodded. The Warden and Security Chief walked him out of this last room to face a single large door with an unusual locking mechanism, the Chief handed him a keycard like the one he'd stolen. "It expires in one hour."she warned grimly. 

As he was shut out of the surveillance room he took a deep breath and he slid the keycard on the first door. It shuddered as it freed the lock and slowly opened. He stepped through and the door closed automatically behind him. A thrill of fear ran up his spine as he looked down the long empty hallway with only one destination. A single, solid, metal door with a keycard slot in the center and nothing else. He forced a calm pace of himself as he approached the door, hand shaking as he held the card. He crossed the length of the hallway in much faster than he felt he was moving and hesitated at the door. There's been so much time he'd spent thinking about this moment and here it was at last. The blonde man slid his keycard and stepped inside, avoiding the door as it closed, and squinting into the darkness until the lights started revealing more and more of the room. 

Still grasping the keycard in one hand, the blonde burglar approached the prisoner, his long thumb nail scraping the edge of the card, hands behind his back. "Hello." He said more to see if he could still speak than to start a conversation. The prisoner opened an eye to glance at the blonde, but closed it again. "That's okay. You don't have to talk. I can do enough for both of us. My name is Kean." 

Inside the surveillance room the Warden and security Chief exchanged glances,"What did his license say?" the Chief said uncertainly. The Warden put a hand up,"Go see the receptionist." Hesitating, she started to argue, "Sir, we aren't supposed to go in after him," But he cut across her, "We may have no choice, we've made a catastrophic oversight." The Chief nodded but didn't ease her grip on her holstered gun as she doubled back. 

"I've wanted to meet you for some time, though I won't claim to know you, like your last visitor did. She's very excited about her book." The burglar named Kean was shaving layers of the card off with the intensity of his thumb nail scraping the keycard's edge. The prisoner exhaled loudly with disinterest. "I only have two questions for you... If you'll indulge me. When... When was the last time you _ate_?"

The Warden grit his teeth and pressed a button on his desk. The prisoner looked up at the man finally, black eyes meeting brown and searching each other. Kean took a step closer and revealed the keycard's now sharpened edge. "My second question is, Sal...." Kean continued, the prisoner's eyes widening and subsequently narrowed, "How _hungry_ are you?" Kean smiled and raised the keycard to his throat as he leaned closer to Sal and dragged the ragged plastic and metal card over his jugular, breaking the skin and opening the vein. 

Blood spilled down his front and splattered onto Sal's face and spit guard. Sal's eyelids fell half closed and he groaned. Kean steadied himself on Sal's shoulder as his face paled and his life began to drain out of him, he gripped one of the hoses on Sal's mask. Three bunker-grade doors behind them the Warden, Chief of Security and twenty riot guards were scrambling to arm themselves as alarms deafened the other inmates.

Sal began sweating and shivering as his breathing became labored. A primordial roar escaped Sal as Kean fell to the floor, pulling free one of the two hoses, blood pouring from his throat. Sal flexed his muscles and pulled on the restraints holding his feet. The metal squealed and bent before exploding apart and freeing his bare feet. Pulling his full weight up he heaved down on the ceiling restraints that encased his hands and ripped the cuffs from the ceiling, tiles and drywall crumbling around him. He slammed his fists into the floor and destroyed the remains of cuffs that once held him, the remaining hose on his spit guard hissing and filling with a toxic gas as the other fogged the room. Sal felt his eyes get heavy and his head started spinning but he clawed at the mask and was able to pull it a few inches from his face. He caught a clearer breath of the blood pooling at his feet and the mask crumbled in his trembling hands. 

Sal grabbed the now unconscious Kean and parted his teeth, closing them over the exposed flesh of his throat. The smell and taste was intoxicating, Sal couldn't even remember the last time he'd eaten anything. His mouth filled with warm meat and thick, salty blood and he salivated, eyes rolling in his head as he nearly collapsed while eating. Garbled voices echoed in the hallway, he was able to barely form the thought that he had seconds left. Shoving fistfuls of skin and muscle into his mouth - tendons snapping loudly - he swallowed all of it in one painful attempt and stood, facing the door as it flung open. He tried to wipe the blood and saliva dripping from his mouth down his neck but smeared it on his face in the process as riot guards flooded the room, guns drawn. 

_Present_

"He was so strong. He was _so_ strong." Brandon's eyes overflowed with tears and he rested his forehead against his crossed arms on the table in front of him. "I'm sorry Brandon, we understand this is difficult but we need to know exactly what happened." Waters pressed. Brandon sniffed and wiped his face on his sleeve, "I know. I know.. He uh, he was faster than us. Not as fast as I thought he'd be, the stories made him out to be like a ghost but he was just a step ahead of us. He didn't kill anyone at first. He broke everyone's legs or arms first so they couldn't all over power him. I came in very last in front of the Warden and Chief, when they saw him mowing through everyone they grabbed me and Mickey but he grabbed Mickey right out of our hands. The Warden locked down the rest of the building to protect the other inmates and employees, but DC-01 didn't care to get revenge. He just wanted to escape." Brandon explained. "Why did the Warden open his door? How did he escape?" Hannison continued. "He just wanted to restrain him. But the vents.... The air vents. I know how stupid it sounds. The vents aren't made to support a person's weight, but it gave him a route to follow, so he climbed along the support girders. Followed them to AC units on the roof and just.... Jumped. Feet first into the river." Waters nodded at Hannison who helped Brandon out of his chair, "Thank you for your cooperation Brandon. See the officer outside and then you can go."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the escape Sal has a few new problems, but only minor speed bumps on his road to freedom

Bare feet sliding through mud, rain whipping in the heavy winds, Sal climbed over the last rolling hill between him and civilization. Staring down the mountainside at the glowing city below, he exhaled a deep breath and began descending, head throbbing as his stomach growled loudly. It had only been a few hours since he'd eaten but he'd merely wet his appetite and now his hunger was returning tenfold. He decided to search the out lying buildings for clothes, or food. As Sal neared the closest building, which appeared to be an abandoned warehouse, he noticed a small fire inside through broken windows. He's put many miles between himself and the prison already, perhaps he had some time to rest.

Carefully stepping over shattered glass, Sal made his was through a few hallways and rounded a corner to see a shadow hovering over a barrel, holding a trash fire. Gingerly stepping through miscellaneous pieces of cardboard, food wrappers and broken wooden planks, he closed the distance between himself and the poor soul standing over the fire. Sal snaked an arm around the figure's chest, trapping their arms to their side, and gripped their throat fiercely. They jerked and began to try to kick their feet and scream, one wild swing of their foot sending the barrel fire flying through the room with an incredible racket, but Sal's hand held fast and collapsed the victim's throat easily. His own heart deafening him with its thunderous beating in his ears, he dropped the body and straddled it at the knees, pulling the shredded blanket off it to find bare skin. 

Blood pooled at Sal's knees and feet as he pulled chunks of flesh and muscle away from bone, his senses of smell and taste being overwhelmed. More time passed than he realized when Sal finally sat back against the wall with his stomach full. His scrub pants were horrifically stained with blood, mud and rain, soaked and clinging to his skin. He took a moment to evaluate himself, scanning the room and noticing where the smoldering bits from the spilled fire had lit the room and illuminated a pile of salvaged clothes in a corner. Huffing a deep breath he stood and stripped off his only article of clothing and began to rummage through the pile of clothes. A mostly in tact grey shirt and a rough looking pair of khaki painter's pants were his only choices, as well as ill fitted sandals from the corpse. He'd need to find a source of money next, better clothes too. If he wanted to cement his freedom he'd need to flee the country, and before he could do that he needed to not look like an escaped convict. 

Out on the street lamp illuminated roads, Sal tried to gain his bearings. He hadn't been to this city before, when he was arrested the government sent him to an undisclosed location, but he was hoping he'd headed west. As he went towards the inner city he passed more warehouses, some ill-kept apartment buildings, gas stations and small shops, leading deeper to office buildings and large shopping centers. The sun had long since set so many stores were closed, very few stragglers heading home, one of them would be his next victim. The man he finally selected seemed to be about his height and weight, a gentleman wearing a nice collared shirt and slacks. He was on the phone loading shopping bags into the trunk of his sedan as Sal made a bee line for him. The man was leaned all the way into his trunk, adjusting the bags to fit more, ear pressed to his shoulder as he held his cell phone between the two and squawked away at whomever. Sal scanned the bags and snagged one with a few different articles of clothing in it, as well as smoothly plucking the man's wallet out of his back pocket. It had been decades since his time picking pockets in the streets but it was a skill he had never lost. Before the man could turn around Sal ducked behind the lifted truck beside them and rolled underneath it. Only a moment later the clueless man peeled out of the parking lot. 

Sal gave it another few minutes before he crawled back out and sat against the truck as he shimmied his pants off and pulled on a pair of well fitting black jeans. Rifling through the bag he found a long sleeved navy shirt. Luck was on his side as he found a shoe box at the bottom of the bag, they were a size too big but Sal certainly wasn't complaining. He opened the box and found a black pair of loafers, and pulled them on over his un-socked feet. It felt good to be dressed like an actual person again, though he was still sweaty and certain he smelled like it. Personal hygiene would have to take a backseat for the time being. While the idea of an actual shower versus the prison hose down he was accustomed to sounded heavenly, he'd have to wait to indulge himself. Sal opened the wallet he'd nabbed and was pleased to see a decent stash of bills as well as a few credit cards. This was the head start he needed he thought as he stood up and tossed the bag aside. All he needed now was to figure out how far from the coast he was. 

_At The Prison Grounds_

Hannison and Waters were ankle deep in mud as they followed a canine unit up along a river heading east. A handful of officers in tow, the team lead a search for the escapee as the dog tracked the scent of sweat and blood. As another wave of dark clouds gathered above them bringing more rain Waters sent the other men home. "We know where he's headed and there's only one city near by. We can handle it from here." Waters shook the hand of the dog handler and waved off the other officers before turning to his partner, "Call the boss and let her know we're heading west, we need to check in regularly so she knows when to call in the big guns if the time comes." Hannison nodded and followed a few steps behind as the two came over the top of the last hill and stared down at the city below, unknowingly only a few miles from their target, who'd found shelter in a motel room just inside the inner city. 

Slipping and tripping down the hill the two investigators slowly entered the city limits, and began looking for signs of the escapee. It didn't take long for the body of the first victim to be found, cementing the duos' belief the prisoner was here. Bloody foot prints took them further than they'd expected, and a brief conversation as well as security tape viewing later, the two men were hot on the trail of their prisoner. With only a few hours 'til daylight and a one way road to follow, they strolled up on a dreary motel in no time. Waters steeled himself and dialed out a short number on his cellphone, listening with held breath as the phone rang. It clicked, someone had picked up, "Boss I think we caught up to him. We're just a few miles east of the prison. Should we engage or wait for backup?" Waters asked. "Wait for backup. You know better." the voice said shortly and hung up the phone. Waters sighed, "I'm gonna find a place for us to settle in and wait, you go talk to the motel owner and find out which room he's in." Hannison nodded and made his way toward the office. 

"Sorry sir, but I ain't rented a room to none today. Got a log you can lookit of my empty rooms though. Maybe yer man is squattin' in one of 'em." A short stout man waddled up to Hannison with a ledger in hand. Hannison nodded and glanced over it, only four rooms were vacant. It wouldn't take long but he'd need to be careful. Thanking the short man he sent a text to his partner as he set to quietly sneaking to the rooms' windows and doors one by one. Peering through shut curtains and listening through the doors' peep holes, he deduced the first two were empty. Upon pressing his ear to the door of the third room he heard shuffling sounds, the room was definitely occupied. Daring a twist of the door handle he found it unlocked, and cracked open the door. The sound was coming from the bathroom. With shallow breathes Hannison crept toward the wall between the bedroom and the bathroom, hoping to just catch a peek of the inhabitants reflection. 

In the room next door Sal was toweling off after his first real shower in longer than he cared to remember. Slipping his recently acquired clothes back on he was sat on the edge of the stiff motel bed, leaning over to tie the laces of his shoes, when he heard the floor boards creak on the other side of the wall. Standing slowly he tilted his head up slightly and inhaled deeply. He caught the scent of cologne, mud, and the prison. He'd been found already. Thoughts racing, he decided to disrupt the trail the man followed. Sal exited his room and entered the one next door, a figure crouched outside the bathroom. Hannison peeked around into the small bathroom find a raccoon rifling through the garbage can. He sighed heavily in relief and sat back against the wall dividing the rooms with his eyes shut, heart pounding. 

His eyes flicked wide open when a heavy weight fell on his legs and something wrapped around his mouth. Two massive black eyes were an inch from his face, the prisoner was kneeling on his lap. His legs were pinned underneath the painful weight of Sal's knees, and head pinned against the wall by Sal's arm. "This won't hurt." Sal said grimly before jerking the man's head an unnatural angle and breaking his spine. Hannison fell limp in his grasp and he dug through the man's pockets until he found his cellphone. There was no way this man found him alone, his partner would get help and keep pursuing him, so at least he could make a scene of it. Finding the most recently contacted person among the texts, Sal sent just the room number and then broke the phone in his fist. Moving quickly he scrawled a message on the wall above the body, grabbed the man's aviator sunglasses, and made a swift disappearance from the property. 

Waters had just convinced the owner of a nearby coffee shop to let him occupy the corner booth so he had a clear view of the motel parking lot when his phone buzzed in his pocket. A message from Hannison read _113_ and nothing else. A room number? Waters decided to call him to make sure he understood not to alert the prisoner to their presence, the phone didn't ring but instead gave an error message recording. The investigator's veins turned to ice and he darted from the coffee shop. He crossed the street and burst into the room moments after receiving the text, but was far too late. Hannison sat against the wall opposite the door, head slumped onto his chest, a message scratched into the drywall above him. Waters prayed as he dropped to his knees next to his partner and felt for a pulse. Heat welling in his throat as he confirmed what he knew the moment he'd opened the door, Hannison was dead. Burning eyes rolled up at the message and he felt fury replace the anguish as he read the words, **"I don't eat pig"**

Only a block away Sal boarded a bus heading for the nearest airport. His plan was to get a plane ticket and some more cash before the stolen credit card was cut off. The bus rolled to a squealing stop at the doors of the enormous airport, sliding it's doors open and letting several people shuffle off. Sal strode past several gates looking for an outgoing flight with the right destination, realizing as he did that he had no identification to pass security with. Thinking quickly he redirected his path toward the poor souls sitting in the waiting areas collected conveniently near the airport bar, and decided to try and talk his way through this predicament. Perusing his options as he purposefully strolled the rows of seats, Sal was looking for any small spark of inspiration. After making his way through several sections it finally came to him in the form of an unconscious, overweight, balding man. Sleeping with his arms crossed, chin resting on his chest, sunglasses covering his eyes, Sal slipped into the seat next to him and took a quick glance around to make sure he wouldn't raise suspicions. Careful to wait for some passers by to chatter past the two of them, Sal nudged the man's elbow to gauge his depth of slumber. He was pleased to see absolutely no reaction. Without hesitation Sal plucked the sunglasses off of the unconscious man's face, and plucked the wallet out his breast pocket. 

Leaving behind another fortunate and clueless living victim, Sal stopped at a small boutique and bought himself a jacket and took the opportunity to pull hundreds of dollars off the stolen card. He then made for the gates again, flipping through the wallet to discover his new identity. Wesley Verger was his name, and he was thirty six years old, from a small city south of here called Lawlton. Formulating his excuse as he approached a clerk he threw on the sunglasses and his friendliest smile. "Good afternoon sir, welcome to Cumulus Airlines. Do you have your itinerary?" A small blonde woman greeted him from behind her counter outside the boarding entrance. "Not yet but I'm hoping you can help me with that," he leaned comfortable on the counter, "If it's not too much trouble I'd like to catch this flight out." She returned his smile and said, "Of course sir, you'll need your ID and payment, fortunately for you we happen to have a few extra seats available." Sal chuckled, "Well it sounds like my lucky day." he pulled out the stolen ID card and held it up in front of her waiting hand but just out of her reach. "You'll look twice but believe it or not its me." Then he flipped the card over and offered it to her. She gave him a suspicious smile before taking the card and raising her eyebrows, looking back at his face. "It's hard to believe you're the same person! What's your secret?" She laughed lightly, printing a ticket as he handed her several large bills. Taking his receipt, ID and ticket Sal grinned at her and said, "I have a wonderful diet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments with honest reviews! I want to continue this story so much further but at the moment this is all I have written. I need feedback to continue


	3. Chapter 3

The plane touched down on the coast of United Continental Colonies small province of Yorkshire with ease and pulled up to it's loading gate. Sal stood first, closest to the exit, and strolled off the plane, smiling brilliantly at the flight attendants on his way out. He already felt freer. A few more pickpocketed wallets and he'd be a whole new man, with unlimited potential. Sal slipped his sunglasses back on a grinned as he made his way out of the airport and into the sunshine. 

The first few weeks passed without incident. Sal lock picked his way into a very comfortable apartment, after overhearing it's owner loudly chatting away about vacation as they loaded their car with suitcases. He'd spent most his days sleeping in and every night prowling clubs and night life. As hungry as he was he had refrained from taking any victims in an attempt to not alert his departed city as to which flight he'd taken. After several long and tempting weekends out stalking loners and last callers, he picked a target he was certain wouldn't be missed. A thin young blond man who seemed perpetually tired. Sal assumed the poor youth had become an alcoholic, and pondered briefly about whether he'd be able to feel the residual effects of the booze or not, before falling in line behind the man as he shuffled drunkenly out the back door of a night club. The two men were now in a putrid back alley smelling of a myriad of urine and vomit. The youth stumbled around a corner, leaning roughly against the wall and bowing his head with a huge sniffle. 

Sal smirked, if he was crying now wait 'til he realized what was about to happen. Three quick steps closer, he clamped a hand over the victim's mouth and around his chest, locking the young man's arms to his sides, and harshly sinking his teeth into the tender skin between neck and shoulder. The hot blood filled his mouth and trickled down his throat a burning sweet taste, like hot cinnamon. Within moments the struggling man fell limp and Sal raked his teeth on bones to tear away chunks of muscle and flesh. Only a few mouthful a in, however, Sal felt his heart choke a beat before beginning to hammer in his chest. Sweat beaded on his forehead suddenly, his breathing becoming labored, Sal dropped the body and fell back against the opposite wall trying to catch his breath. His eyes caught sight of his victim's face. An awful realization befell him, there was powder on the man's nose. His head swam as he breathing failed to even out, he tried to stand as his vision went black. 

Miles away a trio of figures sat in a quiet office, talking in low voices though the building had long been empty that night. "Tolken we can't. We just can't. The board is not prepared to handle news like this." A raven haired man said firmly as he leaned on a desk facing his two counterparts. The man he addressed as Tolken replied, "I don't know what else we can do!" The man gesticulated widely, "We need more people working on this if we hope to get ahead of this." Their third companion spoke, "We have to find a medium. Surely there are ways we can retrieve the data without compromising the employees' safety." She said. The two men silenced for a few moments, lost in thought. After several long moments had come and gone the woman spoke again, "Listen, we can look further into our options tomorrow with my assistant, for now let's head home and try to get some sleep. We have some time." Brilliant red hair slipping over her shoulder, she stood and made for the door, the two others following. 

The made their way down a short flight of stairs into the lobby, encased in enormous windows. Chatting tiredly among themselves, they didn't notice the encroaching shadow rocketing toward the entry doors, until a pale form crashed through the glass showering them in glistening fragments. The person collapsed on the ground, blood trickling from the mouth of the unconscious man caused the red head to yelp and drop to her knees next to him. "Call a bus!" She said sternly, pulling her hair up into a bun and rolling the sleeves of her blouse up as she felt for a pulse. Tolken made the call while the other man pulled a pocket square out of his jacket and started carefully brushing the glass off the man's back, amazed to find no scratches or stuck shards. "His pulse is too fast. He may be seizing. Kristoph, help me turn him up on his side in case he gets sick." The woman said after brushing the glass on the floor aside with Kristoph's offered handkerchief. The sirens of the ambulance came soon after Tolken returned and a pair of paramedics loaded the unconscious man into the back of the vehicle and slammed the doors closed. The woman turned to Kristoph and Tolken, "I'm gonna go with and check on him. You two head home and get sleep. I'll call you both tomorrow." The men didn't argue and made their way out through the broken front doors, Kristoph calling in a security guard for the office for the night. Tolken made his way the opposite direction before calling over his shoulder, "Take care Emma, the guy looked messed up."

Sal awoke with a start, his first deep breath turning into a dry heave as his head throbbed and his stomach knotted. The ceiling was white with bright lights, and he could feel restraints around his wrists. Panic seared his veins and his eyes darted around the room, was he captured? Why was he in the medical ward? What had they done to him? He pulled his wrists against the straps and they gave instantly, _What on earth?_ he thought. If he was back in prison there's no way they'd give him such weak bindings! So where was he? No sooner had he asked himself this question did a man in a long white coat enter the room, a clipboard in hand. "Oh, uhm. Well glad to see you're awake. Hoping you aren't too upset about the safety restraints, you were a bit distressed when you came in." The doctor stood next to the bed and offered a hand, "Elwood." Sal took the hand and shook it, hoping to appear somewhat normal. "A few slightly confusing drug tests later we think you may have overdosed on cocaine. Dangerous way to play Mr. Verger," _Ah they found the stolen wallet ID card._ " You should find better ways to enjoy your weekends." The doctor said in a paternal tone. "Blood tests..." Sal said, not really asking a question. "You were covered in it when you came in. We ah, couldn't actually get an fresh stuff from you. Needle pierced the skin but nothing happened, it's the damnedest thing. Didn't find any lacerations on you either." The tone had become accusatory. Sal slid from the gurney and stretched, reaching for his jeans folded in a bag next to him, "Yeah, got thick blood. Too much sugar maybe. Where's my shirt?" 

Behind the doctor someone else entered the room. A small amber haired woman approached Sal, piercing green eyes examining him in his gown. He raised an eye brown at her before pulling the strings off the next of his gown and letting it fall the exam room floor. The doctor scoffed irritably and walked out, Sal wished he'd realized he was naked before doing so but forced himself not to laugh at his mistake as he casually slipped his jeans on, still looking for his shirt. "It's in evidence." the blond answered his question. He froze, slowly locking his black eyes on green ones. "Am I under arrest for something?" Sal asked carefully. "Not yet. But they have to test that blood and match it's owner to you before you're cleared. I have some questions for you but I have somewhere to be so for now you can have this." She thrust a plain white t shirt at him, "put that on and come with me."


	4. Chapter 4

Emma walked purposefully down the hall, taking a handful of turns 'til she reached a secluded office. Turning to her follower she gestured for him to enter. He did and she closed the door behind herself, before sitting in one of two arm chairs. Sal sat slowly, pulling the white shirt over his head and settling himself into the chair comfortably. "It doesn't take a prodigy to recognize inhuman traits during a medical examination. I could tell something was odd about you the moment you crashed into my lobby." Emma stared intently at Sal, waiting to see his reaction. He chuckled, "Sorry about that. Went to a club last night to have some fun and had more fun than I intended." Sal was painfully aware of his lack of sunglasses as the woman before him started him down. "I'm not an idiot, I want to know why you're different. Why do you have hide instead of skin? Why are your eyes black? Why don't you bleed? What are you?" Her voice was demanding. Sal rubbed his eyes as his head throbbed, he sighed and relented, "Look, Lady, I can't answer most of those, I don't even know myself. My eyes aren't always black, my skins always been tough, and I don't bleed when I haven't eaten well. I like... Dry up or somethin '. I don't know what I am I just am." "Whose blood was on you, then?" She pressed, not satisfied with his answers. "The idiot who drugged me. I don't do that shit." 

Emma continued to stare at him, rolling her thoughts about in her mind. "If you think I did something then why are we in here chatting?" Sal narrowed his eyes at her, hoping he wouldn't have to fight his way out of the hospital, and leave a red flag of bodies for his homeland investigators to follow. "Because I have a country in a _delicate_ political climate and I could use the help of someone as tough as you appear to be." Sal laughed, "You must be in a tight spot to ask someone like me!" But Emma was stone faced in her returned gaze, "My colleagues and I have indeed become desperate." His laughter stopped, he hesitated before answering, "If you're being serious... What does it entail? Do I become your property? Do I have a contract? How does this help me?" Sal was leaning forward now, elbows on his knees, hands clasped as he listened. "You're being investigated for a violent act. It's evident you hurt someone while on illegal drugs, I have friends that can make that go away. You'd be helping us indefinitely, but, pending your completed help in securing this country's safety, you'd be a very free and comfortable man." Emma crossed her slim legs and sat straight, waiting his response. He looked hard at her while considering his very limited options. "I don't have a lot of choice in the matter so I'll agree to help." Sal stood and out stretched a hand, which Emma accepted. "Then we have a deal. Your amnesty for our security." Sal grinned wickedly, "Now that we've officially sealed the deal, I ought to introduce myself." Emma shrugged, "I saw your name on your ID, Wesley Verger." He snorted, gripping her hand before releasing it and opening the door for them to exit, "Name's Sal. Wesley Verger lost his wallet at the airport." 

Kristoph and Tolken sat in stunned silence, Emma standing across from them with hands on her hips. Sal sat on a window sill behind her, happy to watch the tension thicken from behind a new pair of sunglasses. "So you don't actually know who he is?" Kristoph finally asked. "Do we need his backstory? He crashed through reinforced glass without so much as a scratch on him. He recovered from a drug overdose on two hours without a stomach pump or fluids. We need someone like him." Emma threw an arm Sal's direction. Kristoph half nodded, failing to find a valid argument. "Does he not have anything to say about this?" Tolken glared between Emma and Sal. Emma glanced back as well. Sal stood and stretched, making his way to Tolken and lowering his glasses to make eye contact, "I'm just happy to serve my country." He grinned. Tolken scowled, "You had better take this seriously. The situation where in is grim and there'll be hell if we fail. If you turn out to be useless you better bet your ass will be jury fodder." Emma stepped between them, "We can write up a proper contract after lunch. For now how about I take Sal to his quarters and get him accommodated." It wasn't a question. She took Sal's arm and lead him out of the room, ending the discussion. 

"That did not go as well as I'd hoped." Emma sighed. Sal jerked a shoulder in a lazy shrug, "Don't fret, I'll be a helpful boy." He smiled down at her. She returned it slightly but still appeared worried, "This was a very half cocked idea." Sal chuckled, "I can be impressive if the situation calls for it." She rolled her eyes. He continued, "How's about after your friends get some lunch we go to a range or something? I can square up and show 'em what I'm made of." Emma considered the idea and nodded, "It would help me feel less like I just got a potential murderer off the hook for nothing." They stopped at a thick wooden door in a warm hallway, "Here's your room. I'll be two doors down for the most part if you need me, most of the leaders live or have rooms here in Kristoph's castle, so please behave. I'll fetch you after lunch, unless you'd like to join us." Sal swung open his door and stepped inside, in mild awe of his new home. Rich wood floors and a large fireplace gave a very impressive first glance. This was a reading or sitting room, with an attached bed and bathroom. "Uh, no. Thank you. I'll be here when you're ready." Emma nodded and left him to examine his room freely. 

This had to be the nicest place he'd ever lived, if he thought about it. Making his way to the fireplace he ran his hand over the fluffy chaise lounge next to it, seated perfectly within arms reach of a bookshelf. A steel bucket next to the hearth held matches and kindling, a few fresh logs already in the fireplace. Through the first doorway was his bedroom, simple with a small window and a fairly large bed. A single nightstand and lamp next to it. One more doorway lead to a very handsome bathroom, an enormous bathtub sat in one corner, a toilet in the other, with an expansive vanity in between, decorated in white and gold to match the marble of the tub. Settling himself on the chaise lounge, he kicked off his shoes and closed his eyes, trying to decide how comfortable he should let himself get. Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea for him to snoop around after everyone has gone to bed and find a few escape routes in case of emergency. A small knock at the door pulled him from these thoughts and he hesitated on answering. The door opened anyway. 

"Hello? Ms. Emma sent me with some clothes and food," a small voice called through the half opened door. "Ah yeah, come in." Sal stood. A young girl in a smart pale blue uniform entered, pulling a cart behind her. "She guessed your size so if anything doesn't fit, please let me know. She also said you declined joining them for lunch so I brought some food in case you're hungry." Sal smiled, "Thanks, love. I'll take the clothes but I think I'll pass on the food for now." His stomach gave an unfortunately well timed growl. He still hadn't _really_ eaten. The young girl smiled, "Just try it, I promise it'll be something special." He accepted and she disappeared after emptying the cart of clothes and food on his coffee table. He had to admit the food smelled incredible. Sal thought he must be hungry indeed for normal food to sound appetizing. As it turned out, she had brought a hearty stew and roll of bread, with a pitcher of sweetened black tea and ice. Sal finished the entire lot and found himself surprisingly satiated. Chuckling to himself at his own desperation for food he tried on some of the clothes Emma had sent his way. A fairly drab combination of a black t-shirt, black cargo pants and belt as well as black socks and tactical boots completed his outfit. The shirt was a bit tight and the shoes a bit loose but he couldn't complain. The fabric was light and breathed well, and the boots had a fantastic weight to them. He was still admiring himself in his bathroom mirror when Emma returned to take him to the combat room.


	5. Chapter 5

Sal hadn't expected a small crowd to be awaiting him as he entered what looked like an indoor Roman colosseum. About twenty people, both politicians and castle attendants, had squashed into a small balcony to look down upon Sal as he was given a brief rundown of his exhibition from Kristoph. "I have a small squad of twelve fighters dedicated exclusively for these situations. They're meant to test the strength of various officers to determine their eligibility of being promoted a rank. Don't worry about going easy on them, they're used to breaking bones. Just show me what you can do." Kristoph had a very calm tone about him, which Sal couldn't decide if he respected or was offended by. Sal just nodded and watched as he was left alone in the pit. Behind him a portion of the wall rolled up and the combat team entered the arena. No applause or cheers were heard, the climate of the room was much too tense. The men and women of the team spread out into a semi circle, dressed in similar clothes, unarmed. Sal almost felt guilty for what he was about to do to them. Almost. 

A klaxon sounded above them and a few members came at Sal with balled fists and swinging kicks. He took a boot to the face and two fists to the abdamon, but held his ground. His pride decided for him that he should show off how much of a beating he could take, before showing how strong he was. Three more heavy blows to his back and sides and another kick, this time to the back of his knee, and still he stood. The team members that had not yet engaged him chose to join, equally prideful in their accumulated strength. Now Sal would act, weaving through the first new set of fists and finally grabbing the ankle of the kick happy member. Her squad shirt said **08** , he noticed before throwing her backward into **05**. He winded them both. One boosted a jump for another, a boot heel coming straight down at Sal. Side stepping in between seconds the leg connected with earth and a harsh _snap_ echoed off the arena walls, followed immediately by a shriek of pain. Two more came in, one high from the left, one low from the right, trying to topple him. They succeeded surprisingly, the heavier **01** landing a few fists to Sal's face before receiving one to his own, eye socket breaking. Clambering back to his feet, Sal found himself surrounded by the remaining eight. They came out him now as though in a bar fight, wild haymakers and round houses in all directions. Showmanship now out the window, Sal focused on catching each fist and foot aimed his way. Spinning the legs unnaturally and breaking them or flinging the owner to the ground with a dull thud, snatching fists and redirecting them to pull the thrower face first into his elbow, or face first into his face. He felt a small sweat gather on his brow and back as he wrestled the last few into submission. Panting as he stepped back to look at the brothers in the balcony, he caught the girl with the cart from earlier in part of the crowd, smiling. 

Tolken couldn't help but be impressed. He'd never seen a lone person defeat the entire squad. Not even he could say he'd done it, but here this stranger stood, amongst a field of fallen elite, successful. Kristoph began to clap, followed by Emma and the rest of the crowd. Tolken sighed and joined, at least now they had someone to help them. Sal laughed as he tried to catch his breath and took a bow before being lead back to what was apparently Kristoph's library. Emma and Tolken arrived behind Kristoph, each congratulating him. "Quite an impressive display." Kristoph shook his hand. Sal nodded, shrugging slightly, "I've had worse." Tolken leaned against a table, "Have you?" Kristoph glanced at them both, "It is curious to see someone so powerful that I've never heard of." He looked questioningly at Sal. "Like to lay low. Somebody like me makes enemies real easy." He turned the palms of his hands up, "Honestly been in lock up 'til a few weeks ago." Emma took a seat next to Tolken, "Well as long as you make good on your end of the deal that shouldn't be a problem again. I had Kristoph's assistant write up papers for you to sign." She pointed to a stack beside her. Sal nodded and took them, and a pen from Tolken, and scribbled a signature a few times. "So who are we getting the heat from?" he asked, offering the papers back to Emma. "Do you care to read these?" Tolken nodded at the stack. Sal shook his head, "I'm a simple man. Make a deal, keep the deal. You tell me who, when and where, and I'll get it done." "Will you now?" Tolken raised an eyebrow. "We're dealing with the estranged leader of the North country. He's stolen the schematics for a very powerful mechanized suit of armor. Obviously we have a backup of the data, but we can't afford to let him have it. He'd raise the world to the ground to gain back his position." 

Sal sat back on his heels, considering everything he's just heard. "I can fight.But I won't pretend to know how to lead an army. Or that I'm a good teacher." Emma chimed in, "Maybe not but we could use you as a secret weapon." Kristoph nodded, "We can teach you to fight, and you can lead our best and brightest. And I'd be interested if we can find the source of your genetic differences.." Sal only nodded, half listening to what he was hearing. He'd spent so many years in his solitary chamber he felt overwhelmed now with the idea of being responsible for anything. Besides his past, how long 'til they figured out what he was, and inevitably turned on him for it? He'd get hungry soon enough, and his strength of will would only hold out for a limited time. He decided to keep his plans to find various ways out tonight, and start preparing to disappear again. In the night following he wound his way through hallway and corridor after room and wing, unsuccessful in finding any exit besides the way he'd been shown in. Perhaps a few more days of nighttime strolls wouldn't hurt, he thought as he finally succumbed to sleep in his new bed. Several days passed very suddenly, Sal being introduced to many different important people, undergoing unusual medical tests, baffling the poor specialists designated to his case. He was fitted for real combat gear, a bulky but effective set of armor plates and a helmet with a HUD built into its visor. The cart girl returned twice a day, in the morning to wake him and in the evening to bring fresh clothes, and always with food. 

A few stressful days after his first night out he found himself wide awake in the middle of the night, restless of his strange new lifestyle. Following a new flight of stairs further down than he had yet been, Sal found a new exit at last. The stairway lead to an outdoor area, luncheon tables, a few sports courts, where he chose to seat himself and weigh his options for the near future. Sitting on a stone table, he stared into the dark woods surrounding the back of the castle, wondering how deep they were briefly as he considered them as an escape route should shit hit the fan. Behind him he heard the door click shut and he whipped his head around to find the cart girl, still in uniform, approaching him. "Well hey there, beautiful. What brings you here at this time?" Sal greeted her with a heavy warmth to hide his mounted suspicion. She strode to his table and sat near him, "You do." Was her simple answer. He snorted. "I know who you are." She continued, "I read your book. I never thought I'd meet you." Sal examined her wearily, "Do you? I hope I don't disappoint." She stared intensely, eyes moving from his sunglasses to his mouth and back. "Not at all."

The girl raised a hand which he snatched up quickly, her eyebrows quirked at him. "Sorry, er, everyone that says they know me gets weird after the introduction. What do you want?" She retracted her hand and smiled, "I'm just here to help." His eyes narrowed and she continued, "What do you think of my cooking?" Sal took his glasses off slowly and locked his black eyes on her brown ones, "Have you been feeding me something special?" He tried to remain vague in case he was mistaken. It was clear to him what she was implying. "I've been making sure to supplement your meat options, I understand your dietary restrictions." She smirked at her own comment. "What's your name?" He leaned back, appraising her. "Tenna." He offered a hand, "Well, Tenna, it looks like you and I will be fast friends. The way to any man's heart is through his stomach. Just don't make the mistake of selling me out." She smiled back brilliantly, "I wouldn't dream of jeopardizing our relationship." With a moment more of stare in exchange, Sal stood and made his way back to his room before the sun came up.


	6. Chapter 6

Spending every day and night with the same people was unusually enjoyable, and he'd taken a liking to being around people who weren't shooting high powered weapons at him. Everything slowed down as he found himself with a routine, a previously foreign idea to him. He now woke to Tenna's knock when she arrived with clean laundry and breakfast, a morning meeting with Kristoph, who as it turns out is the King, and his brother, Tolken, whose role Sal still hadn't quite worked out. He'd usually have a midday skirmish with his new team, or occasionally track down and follow Emma. He had taken a liking to her for no more reason than she treated him like he was just another person. She spoke to him as though he were educated rather than as an animal in a cage, or death incarnate. His nights now ended with Tenna bringing him dinner - and watching him eat. Sal couldn't decide if he'd become comfortable or if he was being ignorant in letting his guard down, but he was definitely adjusting quickly. 

A month's time passed and Kristoph was due to announce an plan for the elite squad the next morning when Emma knocked at Sal's door. He was sitting on the side of the bed eating and listening to Tenna fill him in on his famous "biography" when he heard it. Glancing questioningly at Tenna who simply shrugged, he crossed the room and opened the door. Emma smiled, "Hope I'm not interrupting, I wanted to invite you for drinks with the boys." He swallowed a mouthful of... _food_ he told himself, and looked at Tenna. "Not at all, I'd be happy to join. Just give me a second to make myself proper." Sal nodded at his bare chest and boxer briefs. Emma averted her eyes and they landed on Tenna. She forced herself not to let her eyebrows raise in surprise but instead mustered a smile. Tenna smiled back cautiously and stood, crossing the room, exiting without a word. Sal had shuffled past them both and was pulling a white t-shirt on along with a pair of blue plaid pajama pants he had indefinitely borrowed from another squad member. He returned to Emma with another mouthful of _food_ and guestured toward the door. Emma made her way back to the hall, followed by Sal as he closed the door behind them. Emma looked down the hall behind them before asking, "So... Tenna?" She smiled inquisitively. Sal looked back at her with a blank stare. "Is she... Are you two?" Sal continued to stare, Emma inclined her head, "Do you have any idea what I'm implying?" Sal twisted his mouth to one side and cocked his head in half-shrug. "Are you romantically involved with Tenna?" Emma laughed. "Oh hell no!" Sal laughed as well, "No she's just determined to be my friend for some reason." Sal shook his head. "Is that so unusual?" Emma queried. 

Sal continued to walk beside her, now facing backward as he crossed his arms and thought. "I'm not a social type." He knew his answer was poor but his concern for the direction this conversation was going was louder than his wit at the moment. There was a heavy silence between them. Emma looked pensive, "You know. The last time I drilled you I asked _what_ you were. I never asked _who_ you were." Emma stopped walking as she fell silent again, facing him in a hallway dimly lit with reflecting moonlight. Sal took a deep breath, it's not like he wasn't ready for this to fall apart, he just realized how much he didn't want it to. "Do you get international news here?" He asked, seemingly changing the subject. Emma furrowed her brow, "yes..." Sal didn't know why he was saying this," Have you heard of any headlining news about the White Isle prison's escapee?" He needed to quit talking but fixed her with a level stare. "Of course, half the country is up in arms over it. They said the detective leading the investigation tracked the person here from mysterious deaths and issued a massive warning about the public being on the look out but gave no description. Said they were dangerous but didn't say why. Even Kristoph is in the dark." Sal stepped into Emma's personal space, uncrossing his arms slowly, "So tell me, Emma..." Her eyes focused on him as she came out of thought, and realized he had her backed against a wall. "During the beginning of the investigation in your country you and the brothers have a stranger come crashing into your offices with weird eyes and _hide_ like skin, someone who came out of a drug induced coma instead of dying and has no better excuse for what he is besides just _being_ it, and you say you're... clueless?" His skin felt hot and his limbs where going numb. "Tell me," his hands where on the wall on either side of her now as he leaned even closer still, trying with monumental effort to restrain from acting on bubbling desires. He really did like the red head, but she was suddenly so small to him, like prey. "Who... Do you... Think.. They're talking about." Sal could smell her body wash, his mind going static as his panic induced adrenaline rush began to cloud his thoughts. He felt darkness rising up. Emma never broke his stare, even as she found herself pinned. 

She took a calm, deep breath, "If you're hoping for me to suddenly become a damsal in distress you're going to have to do better than that." Emma forcefully pushed an arm out of her way so she could continue leading him to their destination. "And if you're thinking revealing that you're an escaped convict is some big pilot twist I'm sorry to disappoint but you've screamed delinquent since you broke my office windows with coke in your blood" She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she walked away. Sal stood there for a few minutes trying to regain motor control. He'd been on the brink of going primal again, but why? He cleared his throat, "Well, ahem, that's a good thing? I guess. You're not kicking me out so I guess I'm still on the team." He stalked behind her. "I told you we need help. As long as you hold up your end of the bargain I have no problems." Her voice was cold now. Sal raised his eyebrows and nodded, feeling embarrassed as reasonable thought returned to him. "You'd said your eyes change color. I guess it's at night? White looks better on you." Emma pulled open Kristoph's bedroom doors. Sal suddenly found his feet glued to the ground. He glanced at a framed photograph hanging nearby and saw his reflection in the glass. His eyes were completely white.

Sal stared at himself for over a minute, Emma leaving him behind as she entered Kristoph's room. He watched the white fade to gray in the center as the gray spilled out, followed by black as his eyes adjusted back to normal. His vision had been sharpened dramatically, he realized as it happened. His feet moved him to the room after Emma without thought, the others calm chatting a distant buzz as he tried to make sense of what he had seen. "Sal, glad you joined us." Kristoph greeted him with an open bottle of beer. Sal took it but didn't drink right away. Drugs and alcohol were more powerful to him than most people, but he relented and took a swing to avoid drawing attention to himself. Kristoph spoke after Sal settled into an arm chair, "As I was telling Tolken, tomorrow morning I will be talking to the elites about the reconnaissance mission. We'll dispatch you the day after." 

He spent the time with the others barely listening, plans being laid out carefully as he retreated into his thoughts. Was he not in control of himself? He'd always just acted on his desires, never before had he tried to behave normally or repress his urges for violence. Thinking back to his escape at the prison he didn't recall any internal struggle, just excitement. Concern ebbed at his conscious of what could happen if he were to have a similar outburst when working with the elite squad. He couldn't afford to have two countries after him. After the group decided to disperse for bed Sal made his way back to his room, Emma a bit behind him, staring at his back as he silently shut himself in. Surely he could get a handle on this? He's strong willed, Emma had just caught him off guard. Sal crawled into bed in his clothes and fell fast asleep, pushing the concern away. 


	7. Chapter 7

The suiting process took much less time than Sal expected. For no other reason than an active imagination, he had pictured a lengthy and difficult fitting process for what he assumed would be very technologically advanced armor. What he got instead was what looked like heavy duty riot gear. A plain cyan body suit was the first layer, followed by individual pieces; simple helmet that reminded him of an airsoft mask, a breast plate that only protected his upper torso, with Kevlar padding on the abdomen, light weight vambrances and knee height greaves. He felt a little underwhelmed as he finished dressing and slipped on the combat boots they'd given him when he first was brought here. **01** offered to show him how his heads up display, or HUD as **01** referred to it, pressing a button on the inside of the helmet and bringing up a small map onto the screen. "You can see a basic map of pretty much the entire country here, you can also see tags for each of your teammates on screen as well as emergency alerts regarding damaged armor pieces or impending danger like incoming ballistic attacks." Sal nodded and flipped through the available screens still feeling unimpressed, but said nothing. At least it was simple to use.

The Elite Squad packed very little, only **05** carried a weapon, Kristoph had made it clear this was supposed to be a stealth mission. They would take a bullet train to the west coast, and travel north to the enemy base on foot. The only goal was to retrieve the data card and return, any extra intel was optional, but no altercations were meant to happen. Kristoph followed the Elite Squad to the station reviewing this with them again and again. The team had one car to themselves entirely, which they settled into quickly and began discussing their options for when they arrived at the base. Sal sank comfortably into a couch in the common area as the rest of the elite talked tactics. He listened but didn't speak, determined to maintain an even level of calm for the duration of the mission. No excitement or stress, he'd take everything in stride, and he _wouldn't_ lose control. The day faded quickly as the train barreled through province after province, green pastures giving way to dry plains, and eventually sandy dunes and barren landscapes. Serious talk gave way to relaxed chatter and the squad shifted from a well oiled tactical team to a group of friends finally making time to talk to one another. 

Sal started catching names as he listened, realizing now he hadn't gotten to know any of them enough to learn their names despite training with them regularly. Perhaps it would be better for him to engage them more. His like of Emma's presence was part of what helped him keep himself together in the midst of their incident in the hallway the night prior. When the conversation lulled he took the opportunity to join, "Who thinks they have the most ridiculous story to tell?" He offered the subject in hopes of truly engaging them personally. The dozen of them clamored over each other for a moment before deciding amongst themselves to go by number. **01** went first, telling a short story of having to chase a horse across three counties to take the body of a successfully killed enemy into custody. The lot chuckled but none were satisfied. Of the dozen, Sal found his favorites at the end of the night to be between **12** and **08**. One having had to coat themselves head to toe in cow shit to hide their scent from guard dogs while following a target, and the other having had to have a small child lead them to their destination after getting lost in a foreign country. The child had reprimanded **08** for carrying a gun. No sooner had Sal sat up to make his way to his cabin did **02** suggest he take his turn.

"Uh. Sure, yeah I guess I can share too." The team all focused their attention on him, he felt unusually anxious with so many eyes on him. "How about how I came to join you guys? Has Kristoph told you all this one yet?" There was a murmur of descent. "Alright, well I'll keep this short and sweet. I actually fled here from overseas and was hiding out in the inner city, picking up food where and when I could without drawing too much attention, ya know?" A few members nodded. "So one night I make the mistake of eating something I found out back of a night club. Trust me I know now how stupid it was," Sal chuckled nervously. "But I was hungry and broke so I went for it. Realized too little too late that it was laced with drugs, which I have no immunity to, even less so than some of you. And I blacked right the fuck out. Miss Emma was kind enough to fill in the blanks for me. I guess I ran about a mile further in, looking for gods only know what. Dunno what I thought I'd find there but I apparently decided Emma's office was the right place so I let myself in. Well more like flung myself in?" The gang laughed, Sal relaxed a little. "Emma said I rammed myself right through the glass entry and crashed into a heap at her feet." Another wave of laughs and Sal trailed off, not wanting to elaborate on the deal he'd made with her, or about his doctor visit. Thankfully the group didn't seek details and they were able to disperse to bed soon after the story ended. 

The train arrived by sun up the next day at the coast on the other side of the continent. Kristoph and set them on a train purposefully going to a slum city to avoid them drawing too much attention. The station the team arrived at was deserted, boarded up windows and broken stair railings bringing a very decrepit look about the area. This unfortunate state of living extended into the houses, schools, and shops surrounding them. **02** sighed sadly as she looked around. Sal glanced at her and caught her eye, "I came from a place like this. It's hard to see, knowing how hard I had to fight to get to where I am now, and that its gonna be that hard if not more so for every other kid here." Sal nodded and considered patting her on the back but ended up deciding against it. Her reflex would probably be to break his arm. "Kristoph seems like a good leader. I don't think he'd forget about people like this." Sal replied gently, not sure what else to say on the matter. **02** nodded but said nothing as they continued on. Sal would have thought the entire town was empty had he not seen silhouettes of people through windows as the team snaked their way through the outskirts of town. **01** lead the way, silently stalking between buildings and through empty parking lots. They had to make their way through this town, an aired desert and over a canyon to get to the waypoint. The squad stop for a brief water break to hydrate, mop their brows and empty their bladders. **01** took the opportunity to scout ahead. A few other members checked over their equipment. The sky started to fade from blue to orange and then pink. Broken street lights flickered and hummed to life as the sun set beside them, reflecting on the shattered windows of the surrounding dwellings. When their leader returned the squad took refuge in an empty building, and took shifts sleeping. 

As the sun peaked over the skyline a half dozen bodied were stirred awake by the others, and the team returned to their trek. It was another day's journey to reach the canyon. The team left the dry dirt and pavement of the city slums for the soft crunch of rocky sand. Feet sinking deeper the further into the desert they got, the squad found themselves stopping for breaks more and more often. Climbing dunes through ankle deep sand was a battle in and of its self. Sal found himself, as well as **02** , leading the way, her small frame allowing her to walk mostly on top of the sand rather than sink in. When the sun touched the horizon the team collapsed in a scattered heap. They elected collectively agreed not to set up a tent or campfire to avoid drawing attention their direction. As they all sat in a circle eating out of foil bags Sal noticed how bad they were all beginning to smell. He briefly wondered if anyone else had noticed, but was too tired to ask. After a quiet, prepackaged meal the team fell asleep, with **12** watching over them this time. 

The bright oranges yellows of the canyon stung the eye under the bright sun, heat waves distorting the view of the ground ahead and behind. Not a single cloud was overhead and the group of a dozen soldiers were quickly feeling the true weight of their armor and rations now. The team reached the edge of the ground that dropped down into a distant and shallow ravine, and **07** settled himself at the edge, unpacking their climbing equipment. "This is obviously very unsafe so please be mindful of your movements. I would have liked to have had time to train each of you independently on how to properly climb with this stuff but that was not an option so I need you all to listen carefully." **07** slowly explained the use of the harnesses and rope clips to the squad. It must have been a solid ten minutes before he even began to help them each get into their harness. "This mechanism here will fire a harpoon like spear into the ground on the other side. It should support any of our weight, even you eleven." The group laughed at **11** 's expense. "Should it fail, however, just stay calm and wait for us to pull you up. The more you flail the more likely it is for you to break the anchor out of this side." Everyone was silent as **07** fired the other anchor spear into the opposite side of the gorge. The five foot pole went about two and a half feet in. "I'll go first to show you all how it's done, **01** I want you to follow me so you can help me pull anyone up on that side if the line fails. Sal I want you to be the last over for that exact reason on this side, understand?" **07** fixed him with a serious stare. Sal nodded in response. 

The entirety of the group had crossed save for **11** , who - despite a brave face - seemed apprehensive at the idea of crossing. With some encouraging cheers from the other side he grabbed onto his harness clip and stepped forward, looking back at Sal once before taking a deep breath. He stepped off and the crossing line bowed dramatically, but no cracks were hear from the stone, nor were there fraying threads on the rope. **11** made it to the other side without incident and reached a hand up for the others to grab and haul him over the edge with. Sal looked down at his harness to attach his own clip when his very hot but very sensitive ears picked up a subtle sound that caused great distress. The near silent whine of the rope on slipping as it untied itself from the anchor on his side of the gap. The team had several outstretched hands reaching for **11** 's when he dropped out of sight. As the rope swung down from Sal's side he leapt without thought, as the others cried out in shock. Crossing the width of the canyon, Sal grabbed the cliff face and felt skin tear as he slipped down the side. Thinking quickly he kicked off from the rock and grabbed for the rope, and for **11** , snatching up both with ease. The force of the sudden stop, and the weight of his fellow squad member strained his arm and shoulder. Sal couldn't stifle the harsh cry that escaped him as he felt his arm dislocate from its socket. **01** turned to the others who were struck still with surprise, "GRAB THE GOD DAMNED ROPE." He hollared, with full lungs. They darted forward in a line formation, two grabbing the line and the rest grabbing their waists, digging in their heels to the earth. Sal felt them moving upward and inwardly thanked whatever creator there may be. The reached the edge again and **11** climbed up first, a dozen hands hauling his bear like frame onto solid ground. **01** had an odd smile on his face as he alone reached over the edge and grabbed Sal's good arm. "You enjoy the show?" Sal laughed dryly as **01** walked him away from the others and grabbed his dislocated arm. "I expected as much from you. Just as impressive as I'd been told." **01** lined up Sal's arm and forced it back into place, "Fuck!" Sal hissed through gritted teeth. He took a few deep breaths before looking up. "Name's Hugo. Big fan." **01** grinned through a bushy, gray beard. Sal furrowed his brow at him, heart sinking. "Don't worry. No one else here knows. Glad to see you live up to the legend." Hugo said, standing and offering a hand. Sal took it and stood, massaging his shoulder as he sauntered back to the group. His infamy was getting out of hand. 


	8. Chapter 8

Leaving little time to recover from the incident at the canyon, the group found themselves on the perimeter of the safe house belonging to their target. It was a small, unassuming clay mine standing alone in the desert. There was little to no cover between the hiding spot the squad had chosen several yards away from the entrance. "The question now is what kind of security do they have? If they're able to steal the data from us in the first place then we should assume they have some sort of defense or alarm system. How would you like to go about this, **12**?" **01** turned to his comrade who answered, "They don't seem to have any exterior cameras or motion sensors. It's possible they're overestimating how desolate it is out here and only have interior security." The crew all examined the face of the small mountain of the mine, a smooth hill of reddish brown earth with one single massive cave-like entrance. "Fuck it, I'll go for it." Sal decided, standing from his crouched position behind the dune they group had settled at. "What - wait, what? Do you have a plan or something?" **02** narrowed her eyes at him. He shrugged, "Not get caught?" She scoffed, **11** interjected, "And if you do get caught?"

Sal turned away from them and pulled off his helmet, replacing his visor with his sunglasses, "Play dumb." He shed his armor piece by piece, ignoring the incredulous looks his entourage was giving him. Leaving only his under clothes and shoes, he made for the cavern opening, hoping his gamble would pay off, and that he could enjoy the shade of the mine for a little while before they had to depart again. Sal snorted at his own confidence, the likelihood of them getting out of this unscathed was slim. As he neared the mine he listened closely for any indication they'd been spotted yet, silence was broken only by the occasional scalding wind gust. Stepping carefully into the shade of the cave mouth, Sal sighed in relief of being out of the sun, certain he'd gotten quite a sun burn with just the short walk without his armor. Making his way deeper into the mine, he found a tunnel he assumed lead to wherever the people would be, well lit and cooler than the rest of the area. Back at the dune he'd left behind the squad began to follow in pairs.

Together the squad snaked their way through the only path in the mine, senses heightened and sharp due to the nature of the exploration. At the end of the winding hall was a tiny room with a few screen monitors on a desk with a lamp and a fan. A single chair sat half pushed out from the desk, Sal wondered how recently ago it had been occupied. "Where is it? The data card is supposed to be here!" **03** spoke up, looking around the empty room. **05** and **07** nodded in shared confusion from their positions guarding the doorway. Suddenly the whole group tensed, where indeed? Before panic could set in to the team's hearts, Sal cut the tension with a thought, "There's cool air flowing through here, and that fan isn't strong enough to be the source. There's gotta be another path." **01** ran his hands over the walls surrounding them, the others joining as they realized he was looking for a seam in the wall. Within minutes of starting the search they had found a perfect outline in the wall of a door, and with some force and a little finesse the squad got it open.

It wasn't even a whole room, it was barely even a closet, but it was stacked high with cooling fans and a single computer tower, running silently. **01** reached out and pressed the eject button on the tower and after a second's pause, a tiny black card slid out of a slot next to it. "This is it." **01** said as he showed the logo on the side of the card, the same logo branded on their armor. The group sighed in relief, and began their trek back to the outside, nervously waiting for some notification that the enemy was present. Sal was pulling his armor back on as he neared the mouth of the cave, **03** and **07** were leading the way, almost back at the dune already, followed by **09** accompanied by **04**. 

Sal was barely into the sunshine when the first shot rang out. Everyone behind him dropped to the ground instinctually, **03** and **07** dropped for entirely different reasons. **03** had been walking directly behind **07** , and a single well placed shot took them both out easily. **04** whirled about in place just in time to catch a bullet between his eyes before falling as well. **09** darted for the safety of the dune but was nailed with a round just as quickly as his teammates. The silence that followed was deafening, the surviving members of the squad on their bellies in the dirt of the cave floor, each trying to devise a way out. Except for Sal, who had remained standing, ducked back into the shadows and knelt next to **01** , "Hugo we have a bigger problem." Hugo looked up at him, "What the hell else could we have to worry about right now?" He snapped, looking up at Sal.

Limbs trembling, head feeling lighter than air as it spun, Sal tried to stay focused, "I haven't eaten in days, meaning we have all of maybe five minutes before the smell of that blood sets me off." His voice was strained with fear. Hugo's brow furrowed behind his visor before his eyes widened with understanding, "Fuck." Was all he could muster. He moved to his knees and cradled his head in his hands. Sal wasn't sure if he was crying, praying or thinking but he hoped Hugo would offer a solution soon, his self control was slipping away, second by second. "Alright listen up cause we're only going over this once!" Hugo stood suddenly and addressed his team. They snapped their attention to him instantly. "Sal has a plan but it requires everyone's compliance. There's only one sniper up there, we know this because they specifically picked off our teammates one at a time. This means as long as we haul ass, we can escape if they're distracted." Everyone acknowledged their leader as he spoke, Sal, however, was wondering what his big plan was supposed to be. "Sal is going to distract the sniper for us while we make a break for cover, copy that?" With a collective nod, the group stood and gathered at the entrance, readying themselves to run. Hugo spoke to Sal, a few feet away, under his breath, "You're hungry? Go fill up on bad guy, but remember, I'm only a fan as long as you don't compromise the mission or my team's safety, got it?"

Atop the towering mound of earth the gunman lie in sand colored fatigues, blending him quite well into the ground. Sal thought so too, as he soundlessly crawled up behind him, smelling the sweat and stress of the enemy soldier. The man never had the chance to see his attacker, his face was grabbed and jerked sideways, spine crackling as Sal forced his head an unnatural direction. Much less effort than he'd expected, but thankfully just as rewarding. He decided to eat quickly and carefully so not to _cover_ himself in blood and raise questions about the attack. At the sand dune the gang had regrouped and were collecting the bodies of their fallen brethren, mourning in silence together. Hugo was the only one separated, standing at the top of the dune, watching for Sal. The book he'd read had been fascinating and revealing but experiencing this with Sal first hand was slightly terrifying. He'd never had a greater secret to keep, and there was no way for him to know how Sal would behave after all of this. Hugo was on a slippery slope surrounded by thin ice when it came to this line of decision making.

Taking a moment extra of time to make sure he looked mostly presentable, Sal slid down the side of the round mine hill and trekked back to his comrades. Going so long without eating and finally satiating his appetite always left him light headed, almost high. The sharp snapping of tendons like rubber bands, the wet smacking sound of muscle as it tears from bone, the more prominent taste of salt from sweat on skin, it was everything indulgent Sal savored from these moments. He'd almost forgotten how much he loved the violence of the act itself. Did that make him evil? He wondered to himself as he neared his friends again, could he be a "good guy" if he survived like this? Why was he having an internal debate about it? Sal realized as he was greeted by Hugo's approving smile that he liked people, and unfortunately most people like good people. He wasn't sure he could be considered either of those things.


	9. Chapter 9

The Elite Squad was silent in their train car on the ride back, each surviving member grieving in their own way. Sal couldn't shake the feeling of guilt weighing on his shoulders. He wasn't happy his teammates had fallen, but truthfully he didn't have that much remorse over it. This team worked better as a small unit, and the remaining members were all very strong fighters. The deaths of his teammates also opened up an avenue for him to eat finally, saving the rest of the team from his eventual decline on the trip back. How long was he really going to be able to this from them? Sitting in the booth across from him, Hugo knocked the toe of his boot against Sal's, drawing him out of his thoughts, "Don't dwell on it." He said gruffly, staring out his window. Sal nodded to himself and looked at the others, "Hugo," His comrade looked at him. "I don't belong in this world, do I?"

Hugo tilted his head in thought, "You're doing alright. You're not used to trying though are you? You realize everyone fails sometimes, right? Normal people aren't any better at this than you. You just have higher stakes." He shrugged and looked back out the window. Sal furrowed his brow in thought, "But what do I do if I fail? This is bigger than anything I've gotten myself into I can't just run to another city considering how involved I am now." Hugo laughed, "Stop having a pity party. You've got it pretty good so far, don't you? Free housing, free food, a get out of jail free card... It could be worse for you, couldn't it?" Sal snorted, "Like you wouldn't believe."

Arriving back at the castle, Sal had circled his thoughts back to his usual confidence and had decided if his cover got blown with the wrong people that he would fight his way out like always. Safely shut back in his room, Sal stripped and turned on the shower head of his claw footed tub, sitting against the low back wall and letting the steaming water soothe his tired muscles. He hadn't been under the water for more than five minutes when he heard a knock at his bedroom door. He wasn't interested in company, and he certainly wasn't leaving the comfort of the warm shower. They knocked again, he rolled his eyes, thinking to himself it was probably Tenna. Her obsession with him was exhausting, at least Hugo treated him the same as he would anyone else. A third knock didn't come, he sighed and relaxed again, finally standing and properly cleaning himself. As he rinsed himself the feeling of hunger pangs in his stomach appeared. He hadn't eaten since the altercation at the mine, and right now he was having powerful cravings. It was probably his realization that he was starving that woke his sense of smell. Sal toweled himself off and pulled on a pair of pajama pants before opening his bedroom door, finding a platter of food and a drink pitcher on the floor at his feet. 

Sal was happily finishing off the food left for him by Tenna when someone else knocked. He was oddly popular for having only been home about an hour. "It's open," Sal said through a full mouth. His door opened and Emma stepped in, closing the door behind herself and brandishing a six pack of some sort of bottled drink. "Thought we could celebrate." She smiled as she crossed the room, dressed in a tank top and pajama shorts, and joined him on his bed without a second thought. "I know things didn't go exactly as planned," Emma hesitated with the thought of the fallen squad members, "But you got the data card back and most of the team!" Sal finished his food and set the tray aside, "I was hoping no one would die my first time in the field." He sighed. Emma nodded, "I always worry about all of them coming back, but you'll get used to it. We've lost a lot of people." The two sat in a comfortable silence for a little while before Emma grabbed two bottles and offered one to him, which he took with much inner turmoil. He had just eaten so he didn't have to worry about attacking anyone, but he wasn't sure what else he may do as he'd never been drunk and well fed at the same time.

Finishing his first bottle much faster than he probably should have, Sal laid back against his pillows as Emma took a long draw out of her own drink. He wondered why she seemed to enjoy his company, or why anyone did for that matter. Sal was so used to living his violent lifestyle that he'd never experienced the nuances of social situations. The alcohol was finding its way to his head, but he still hadn't decided how he felt about it. Emma had moved on to her second drink while Sal sat, slightly drunk, against his pillows and headboard. "Having friends is hard." He said abruptly. Emma snorted and finished her drink. She picked up two more and pressed a second one into his hands with a smile, "It is hard. I'm sure you value privacy considering you've been in prison before." She shuddered, "The bars just bother me for some reason."

Sipping his new drink, Sal shook his head, "I didn't have bars in my cell." He said thoughtfully. Emma appeared to offer more of her attention, he hadn't yet spoken about his time in prison to her beyond admitting that he had been in one. "What was it like there for you?" Her inquisitive nature still treading the line of being gentle. "Dark usually. Unless I got visitors. Lights only came on if there was movement." Sal replied. Emma only looked confused, "You couldn't move in your cell?" Sal shook his head, "No I was attached to the ceiling and floor by my hands and feet." His head swam from the small movement, too far in to his second drink to care that he had drank too much. "How long were you in there?" Emma was leaning in to the conversation, unabashedly fishing for details on his mysterious past. Sal shrugged, "I couldn't tell ya. I haven't kept up with dates in longer than I can remember. When I'm in lock up I have no way of telling time or the passing of days and stuff. No windows or clocks or anything on the walls. The brief stints of freedom I've had I just had the changing seasons to give me an idea of where in the year I was." 

Turning to face him properly, Emma set her drink down, cheeks flushed pink as the alcohol slowly started catching up to her. "What on earth did you do to be in so much trouble over there?" Her mossy green eyes were wide with interest. Sal smiled in spite of himself, her fascination with him was different from Tenna's. Tenna seemed obsessed with worshipping him, like he was a deity. Emma just wanted to understand everything about him, but Sal was certain she wouldn't handle all the dirty details very well. "Look, this contract of your's... You can't change your mind on it now that it's signed and everything, right?" He asked in preface of his next comment. She nodded earnestly. Sal took a steadying breath, why was he going to tell her? This was a terrible idea, he shouldn't do this...

"I'm responsible for the deaths of somewhere in the ballpark of ten or twenty-thousand deaths." Sal broke the ice with the heaviest blow. Emma blinked slowly and sat up straight, " _How_??" Sal couldn't help but laugh, "You're gonna think less of me." She rolled her eyes, "Does that really matter to you?" Her tone was playful but Sal was slightly surprised at the remark. "Yeah. It does, I guess. I probably shouldn't be this comfortable around you." He half-heartedly chastised himself before continuing anyway, "I'm a lot older than you think. Whatever you think, multiply that times two." Emma looked away in thought than returned her gaze with a nod. "And then multiply that times eight." Sal let his eyelids close for just a moment, feeling dry and burning with exhaustion. "That would make something like four hundred years old!" Emma yelped. "Mhm." Sal hummed without opening his eyes. "You're giving me nothing, Sal, come on," she insisted.

His skin was feeling unbearably hot as the alcohol clouded his thoughts more and more. Continuing to speak was only possible with great effort, "It's gonna freak you out." He didn't want to tell her anymore, but it was too late to turn back. Emma groaned, "Just _tell me_ already! You're just trying to wind me up-" Sal interrupted her, deciding to just get it over with, "Christ, Emma, I'm a cannibal!"


	10. Chapter 10

The silence in the room was so thick with tension, Sal felt as though the air had weight. Emma was staring at him with her mouth slightly open, almost vacant in expression. Not a word was said between them as the moment of silence dragged on. "I can't tell if you're joking or not." Emma finally said. Sal opened his eyes to look at her and shook his head slowly. She swallowed and looked at the floor, "Are you not safe for me to be alone with?" Her voice was deliberate but sad. Sal frowned in hazy confusion, she wasn't fleeing or condemning him? Her smile replaced with a pink lipped pout, Sal's own mouth twitched into a grin. "For a completely different reason, yes."

Emma snapped her eyes back up to meet his at his words. A part of her expected to see him laughing at her believing his big joke, but his hooded eyes were very clear in their intent. She couldn't pretend to have not thought about this, she wasn't blind. Actually having one of the scenarios she had imagined happen to her was something else completely different to experience. She found herself crawling onto his lap without thinking, straddling his thighs. Sal grabbed her waist and pulled her hips to meet his in one smooth motion, leaning up to catch her mouth in a surprise kiss. The smallest of startled squeaks escaped her but she settled onto him and into the kiss very quickly, letting his left hand explore her firm buttock and his right to hold her chin. She slipped her tongue between his lips to open his mouth, gingerly taking his bottom lip between her teeth. The sharp pain mingled with warm pleasure and Sal bucked his hips to get friction against her.

Self control failing on both their parts, the rapidly heating bodies shed their few articles of clothing in a clumsy rush. Emma barely let Sal get his clothes off before she was back on his lap, grinding down against his growing length, she didn't want to think about how long it had been since she'd been with a man. Sal moaned at the soft and wet warmth she covered him with, letting her indulge herself on him for a few moments before grabbing her hips and swiftly flipping her underneath him. Without hesitation, Emma wrapped her legs around his hips as he lined himself up against her entrance. He rocked his hips with force and thrust himself his full length into her. Emma gasped in pain but exhaled into a moan of her own as he started pulling himself out. His second thrust in sent her eyes rolling back and her lids falling shut as she let herself be consumed with pleasure. Sal found a steady pace to start and shuddered out loud, falling forward onto his palm, propping himself against the wall with one hand and gripping Emma's thigh.

With the increasing speed of Sal's thrusts Emma knew she'd be done for soon, and judging the quickly unraveling state of Sal's vocalizations, Sal would be too. Fingernails digging in to the skin of Sal's back, Emma gasped his name as she climaxed, the force of her contracting muscles sending him over the edge as well with a ragged moan. Emma's legs released him and he collapsed onto her, both panting heavily. "Holy fuck that was awesome." Sal huffed as he tried to get his head to stop spinning. Emma laughed lightly, "You weren't too bad yourself." Forcing himself off of her so he could find his clothes, he chuckled, "For my first time I'll take that as high praise." Sal found his plaid pajama pants and Emma's shirt and shorts, offering them to her without realizing she was staring opened mouth at him, "Your first time?!" She nearly shouted. Sal flinched at the spike in volume, his head already pounding. "I've never been around a woman long enough to sleep with her." Sal explained grimly. Emma held up a hand and closed her eyes, "Please, I don't want to talk about that right now. I'm still trying to process that."

Sal nodded and pulled his shirt on after picking it off the top of a lamp. He crawled back onto his bed next to Emma after she finished redressing and laid down, pulling her toward him to spoon. She turned to look at him with a small look of confusion but he was already asleep. Emma rolled her eyes and stretched her arm to turn off the lights. What the hell had she just gotten herself into?

Tenna _had_ come back to Sal's room, but after Emma had let herself in. To her dismay, her timing had brought her to press her ear to the door the moment Emma had gasped Sal's name in the throes of passion. She had stood outside the door for what felt like an eternity, half rooted to the spot and half hoping to catch Emma on her way out to confront her. Tenna was even more upset when the light switched off and Emma never left. She now was sitting against the door to his room, refusing to cry but fighting tears that kept coming. It felt as if her world had just come to a screeching halt. She had invested so much time and effort in earning his trust and trying to get his affection. Tenna had been certain tonight would be the night she would finally get some sort of physical attention from him. She would come to him as a comfort after his long trip, with food to satisfy his hunger and affection to satisfy his desire. Tenna spent most of the night outside of Sal's door, crying quietly, before eventually dragging herself back to her own room.


	11. Chapter 11

Sal noticed Tenna's absence right away. The morning after his night with Emma he had woken to his usual wake up knock but no one entered. "You can come in." He had yawned after a few seconds of waiting, shedding his pajamas in anticipation of clean clothes. No answer. He frowned and shuffled to open his door, where he found a tray of food on the floor before him, folded clothes beside the tray. Poking his head into the hallway, he glanced both directions of the corridor to find no one. To his surprise, however, his food was still unchanged, leading him to wonder if she was still the one cooking for him. This meant she was likely still working in the castle, but had gotten someone else to take over her duties for him. Eating and dressing, Sal decided to look for her after the debriefing Kristoph had planned today.

Emma sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her closet, hoping for inspiration for an outfit. Unmotivated and feeling slightly sick, she sighed and got up to brush her teeth, a horrible taste in her mouth from the previous night's drinking. She needed to get some food in her before the meeting this morning, hoping Sal would give her a wide berth until after the debriefing to discuss the night before. Emma had woken up first, taking a few minutes to regain her bearings before slipping out from under the heavy arm Sal had wrapped around her and sneaking out of his room. The memories of the night before were coming in more clearly now as she recalled Tolken catching a glimpse of her as she let herself back into her room. Embarrassment washed over her and she prayed inwardly that he hadn't seen where she had come from. She wasn't ashamed of what she had done, but Tolken already didn't like Sal. With somewhat of a history between herself and Tolken she fretted that he would over react, Emma really just wanted to keep the peace.

The sun was setting as Sal returned to his room, having sat through the lengthy debriefing in silence, and spent several hours after scouring the castle for Tenna, feeling defeated. He wasn't in the least bit tired as he dropped onto the settee in his lounge. Sal kicked off his shoes and sighed, wondering why Tenna had disappeared on him so abruptly. Surely it couldn't have been because he didn't answer the door for her last night? It seemed unlikely. Unable to find a comfortable position to relax in, knowing he was wide awake, he decided to go to the court yard he had found when he first came to the castle. The rolling green grass leading to the encompassing forest swayed in a lazy breeze as darkness settled in, Sal breathed in the cool air and smiled, catching a whiff of Tenna's favorite lotion. Of course she would be out here.

Tenna sat on the top of one of several stone tables, resting her chin on her knees, staring at the distant horizon's changing colors. A departure from her uniform, she had instead dressed in a two-toned purple long sleeved shirt, black jean shorts, and black sneakers. Clearly deep in her own thoughts, Sal was able to stalk up to her and climb onto the table behind her without drawing her attention. He hesitated and looked at her as he sat at table's bench, unsure of how to go about this. It was obvious to him when he realized something was wrong that he needed to find her _because_ something was wrong, but now that he'd found her he was at a loss for how to make things better. Before he could formulate a plan she sniffled and rubber her eyes on her sleeve before turning around and screaming at the sight of him.

In her fright Tenna had tried to stand up, tripping against her own twisting limbs, and fell hard onto her butt on the grass. Sal raised an eyebrow at her, "And here I was thinking you weren't afraid of me." He snickered at her expense.

She curled her nose at him angrily, "I'm out here trying to _avoid_ you." Was her sour reply.

"Why?" Sal crossed his arms on the table and rested his head on them as he watched her stand and brush herself off.

Tenna sighed and ceased her grooming, looking up to meet his eyes, "I overheard you with Miss Emma last night," She started slowly.

Sal had no reaction, waiting for the rest of her explanation.

"I didn't know you two were together." Her voice was laced with hurt.

Sal furrowed his brow, "Is that what we are? I thought those were referred to as 'one night stands' by people." He sifted through the vocabulary he'd been growing since he'd come to live in the castle.

Tenna raised her eyebrows at him, "You aren't like, in love with her?" Her face one of shocked. 

At this Sal couldn't help but laugh, standing and approaching her, "I don't think I'm physically equipped to love."

With a moment to consider this she inclined her head, "I hadn't thought about it. I guess that means I don't have a shot." She tried to bring humor in to cover her embarrassment.

She shuffled her feet as he leaned in closer and grabbed her chin, "Keep feeding me and maybe you'll get lucky." He smirked before releasing her and nodding at the door, "C'mon, I'm wide awake and you haven't gotten to hear about what happened during our mission."

Appreciating his effort to dispel the awkward feeling that was present, Tenna nodded with a small smile and followed him. Sal was relieved to have won her over, knowing he needed to keep everyone who knew his secret close to him. He couldn't risk her deciding she wanted to turn him in for the _generous_ reward that was being offered for information on him. Truthfully he had no idea what his feelings for Emma were. He cared a lot about her liking him, did that constitute love? Somehow he doubted it. No, it seemed more that Emma was the closest thing he had to a friend.

Emma had felt a difference in Tolken's disposition the moment she walked into the debriefing. The entire meeting had been strangely tense. The Elite Squad was clearly shaken up by their losses but there was more to it than that, Emma could see it. When she looked to Tolken to catch his eye, fully expecting him to meet her eyes and know it too, he was staring at the wall behind his brother as Kristoph spoke. Hugo had skirted over the sniper attack, skipping the details and moving on to the disposal of the fallen members' bodies and their trip home. Sal had shifted in his seat a few times at this point, which went unnoticed by all except Emma. Her eyes flicked over to him with every little squirm and readjustment, wondering what it was they weren't sharing and why.

Unfortunately Emma hadn't had the chance to corner Sal and drill him about it as they left the conference room. Tolken had stepped in front of her before she could follow Sal, giving her a fiery glare that demanded answers. She sighed and let herself be lead back to her own room before Tolken started in on her. It hadn't been so much of an argument as it had been an interrogation. Emma admitted to sleeping with someone but refused to say who. Tolken had made the assumption and Emma had simply rolled her eyes and remained silent. When Tolken had started making jabs at her character she stopped him by holding up a hand.

"First of all, Tolken, you don't get to insult me without reprimand," She hissed. Tolken dropped a guilty gaze to the floor. "Shame on you for trying to make me feel bad for doing something that I _don't_ regret doing, _and_ is none of your business!"

Tolken opened his mouth to apologize but she raised her voice and continued talking, "Second of all you're supposed to be my best friend, which means not bringing me down for being happy." At this point in the conversation she had poked a single digit into his chest.

"I'm sorry, Emma. I get over protective and I'm sorry, I guess I want to know who it was because I care that they're good enough for you, but you're right. It's not my business. Just be careful, alright?" Tolken waited for her to relax and nod with a forgiving smile. "It also doesn't help that I feel like you're more interested in Sal than hanging out with me."

At this, Emma giggled, "It's been a long time since I've seen you get jealous. It's unbecoming." Tolken rolled his eyes and the two let the conversation shift into comfortable chatter as the day came to a close.


	12. Chapter 12

Two days, only two days of being home from his big important mission, before his luck caught up with him. The Elite Squad was in the coliseum room, going through a skirmish together, a few handfuls of castle employees on their breaks and various other visitors littered the stands. Sal was enjoying being able to exert some energy, showing off a little at times, his friends in the stands watching. As the team gathered momentum in their fighting the scattered crowd cheered and whistled, nearly drowning out the _bang_ from the ground doors to the coliseum center as they were forced open. Everyone spun on their heels or turned in their seats to witness two lines of twenty soldiers marching in.

Dressed from head to toe in white armor, heavier than the suit the Elites wore, the detachment was armed with automatic weapons, tactical knives and belts of grenades. Their heavy boots echoed in the rounded ceiling as the two columns of soldiers split and surrounded the Elites. Quickly closing ranks, Sal and the others stood back to back, facing the intruders. Four soldiers, wearing chrome spaulders which distinguished them from the others, stood across from each other with Sal in the center. In the stands Kristoph, Tolken and Emma were quietly shooing civilians and employees through the exits out of the coliseum. As soon as the bystanders had all disappeared the trio slipped down several flights of stairs to the battlefield and drew near the stand off, but froze as they realized Sal was looking their way, shaking his head.

Without a single word, the four chrome clad soldiers fired from small canons, hurling metal projectiles at Sal. The massive, round objects sprung open in mid-air as they neared their target. In seconds the projectiles collided one at a time with each of Sal's hands and feet, humming loudly afer loudly slamming shut. With abrupt force they wrenched Sal onto his hands and knees to the ground, disrupting the organized circle of defense the squad had as each of the eight remaining members moved to free their brother. "No, fuck- just _run!_ " Sal cried as the ghostly circle of enemies tightened around them.

Breaking a sweat through his t-shirt, Sal felt his heart rate rise in fear as he realized his entire life was crumbling. He'd go back to the white room, back to never hearing another voice, never eating again. The elite squad sprung, each taking aim at a different soldier and being thrown back with a bolt of electricity to the chest. "Stop fighting and run for it!" Sal shouted as he strained to stand despite the familiar cuffs.

Hugo dragged himself to his feet first, grabbing the shoulders of his teammates as he stirred them each. He knew this was over their heads, unarmed and unprepared, they needed to survive this if they hoped to fight again later. Two spaulder wearing soldiers stepped forward, one to herd out the Elite Squad, the other approached Sal with a malicious looking mask. Sal looked up from his pitiful place on his cuffed fists and knees and saw the mask as it neared, he screamed and pulled against the unnatural weight of the cuffs. Managing to pull himself to a nearly standing position, Sal tried to fight, to escape, but he knew it was futile.

Hugo glanced back at the sound of his friend's fearful wail and felt his stomach drop. The mask in the hands of the soldier closing in on Sal had been vividly described in the book he'd read, but he never expected he'd see it himself. A similar mask was what had been the primary resource used to contain Sal in his prison, using the valves on either side of the mouth piece to deliver poisonous gas that would paralyze and sedate him. Hugo grit his teeth and wracked his brain for a solution.

From the ground floor exit door Tenna watched in tears, hand over her mouth as she watched the four lead soliders opened metal batons and stalked around Sal as he stood, haunched over with the effort of remaining on his feet. He could hear the muffled sound of one of them laughing behind his darkened helmet visor, "Animal." His tone was thick with derision as he gazed down his nose at Sal, sweating against the strain of being upright. This soldier was the first to swing, aiming at the back of Sal's right leg, sending him dropping to one knee with a grunt. The other three joined him as they raised their batons let loose a flurry of swings.

Emma bolted toward the violence, gasping as she saw one soldier land a hefty blow on Sal's skull, finally getting him back on the ground. She only made it a few yards before Tolken and Kristoph caught her, shouting at her as she pulled against their grip, fighting back tears. Emma and the brothers were still struggling when Tenna flew past them. Her feet kicked up sand as her shoes dug in each step, she closed the distance easily, the outer circle of soldiers watching the display of blood. As she neared, the apparent leader slapped the metal mask against Sal's face and it automatically snapped shut behind his head. A piercing _hiss_ reverberated in the enormous room and she froze. Everyone in audience watched as Sal frantically whipped his head like a dog with a muzzle on, shouting fruitlessly to his friends.

Vapor filled the air surrounding his face and Sal fell still, collapsing face first into the sand. The small number of his friends left in the colusiem gasped, Hugo fighting the urge to come to Sal's rescue. The soldiers in silver spaulders were sharing chuckles and glances as they presumed to have been successful. From just outside the circle of armored men, Tenna broke herself free of the fear that had temporarily halted her movement and shouldered her way through the human barricade. Silver-shouldered soldiers tensed and looked to the 'leader', but he simply chuckled and shook his head.

Tenna fell to her knees in front of Sal and choked on a sob as she lifted his head. "Sal, come on, you have to get up." She said weakly. His eyes were half shut and he was unable to form words as he looked up at her. Her eyes overflowed with tears, "They're going to take you back there. You can't let them." She slid her fingers over the valves on the mask and hooked her fingernails in to the crevices around the seals. Sal moaned unintelligably, trying to warn her against her plan. Behind Tenna the leader stepped forward.

"I know, I'm stupid, this is stupid. But I have to do something." Sal willed his eyes open and his mind clear but was fighting a losing battle, until Tenna ripped the valves open on his mask and his lungs were filled with fresh air. Sal's ears rang with an almighty crack and his face was sprayed with warm blood and viscera. His eyes sprang open again, and he beheld the gruesome sight of Tenna's upright and now headless body. It collapsed in a heap at his side, blood pooling beneath him in seconds as it flooded out of the gaping hole in her neck.

Emma's jaw dropped as she watched from her spot near the exit, the brothers gripping her tighter. The Elite Squad all turned to Hugo expectantly, but their fearless leader was struck still as he watched Sal move his fists to push himself to his feet effortlessly. The soldiers hesitated as their leader faced Sal. His white eyes narrowed and he reared his neck back at an unnatural angle. With all of his strength and force, Sal swung his face forward and headbutted the man to his knees. The fellow men raised their weapons in unison and opened fire, peppering Sal's flesh with angry red welts that darkened to plum colored bruises.

With a hearty swing, the cuff encasing his left hand hammered the leader in the back and snapped in half like the spine it had just made contact with. Their bullets unable to pierce his hide-like skin, Sal shakily grabbed for the mask, the leader of the soldiers struggling to stand again, reaching for a rifle on his back. Before the leader could intervene, Sal broke the would be muzzle off and crushed it in his fist before hurling it at the incoming enemy. It smashed through his visor and embedded itself in his skull, brain matter dousing all bystanders.

Burying his open fist in the chest of the fallen body of the leader, Sal picked it up and flung it at the nearest group of soldiers, sending them stumbling backward into others. The Elite Squad acted at last, following Hugo's lead as he struck out at the confused intruders. Sal wrenched off the other cuffs and searched for the next target. Tolken released his grip on Emma and sprung into action as well, sucker punching a guard in the throat and winding him. Emma watched as Sal grabbed another of the four special soldiers and threw him forcefully to the ground, pinning him there and pulling on his right arm until it separated from his body with the popping of bone and snapping of tendons. Shrieks of agony mingled with grunts and thuds of punches landing resounded off the curved walls as a small war broke out in the coliseum.

Blood was covering more and more of the sandy floor beneath them as Sal dismembered victim after victim . The Elite Squad had backed off after he stole enemies from their hands to kill them himself, pulling out what looked to be their liver. A small handful of soldiers ran for their lives only to be caught by Kristoph and Tolken. They weren't to be spared, however, as Sal was right behind them. He grabbed the faces of two of the would be escapees and slammed them together with such force that their skulls caved in. A third darted but Sal leapt upon him like a predator on prey, tearing open his throat with his teeth and swallowing. The entire coliseum froze at the sight.


	13. Chapter 13

An unnatural stillness blanketed the survivors of the fight in silence as everyone stared in shock. Emma's hands were covering her mouth, Tolken and Kristoph were rooted to the ground with jaws slack. Hugo's hands were gripping his head as his team watched from behind him. Sal was on his knees in the blood of his final victim as it blossomed over the sand and soaked into his jeans. Sal's trance-like state ceased abruptly and his vision cleared, having not realized it had darkened. He saw his hands, covered up to his elbows in blood and sand. Without sitting up he addressed the horrified spectators, feeling his heart racing despite his flippant tone, "I guess the jig is up." 

Before the situation had the opportunity to escalate, Hugo shot a glance at **12** and motioned for the Elites to gather the survivors and leave. **12** opened her mouth to object but her voice failed at the sight of her leader's expression. With a backward nod at the team, the Squad stood and brushed themselves off, a few limping and nursing wounds. They circled Kristoph, Tolken and Emma and escorted them out despite their several arguments. Hugo waited for the doors to close behind them before he approached Sal, still on his hands and knees in the crimson sand.

"They're going to send me back." Sal said quietly. Hugo knelt at his side and rested a hand on Sal's shoulder, "What happened, man? You were doing great, playing the part." Sal looked up at Hugo and the latter saw the gradually changing color of the former's eyes. "I lost control." A pitiful explanation Hugo wouldn't accept. "You just mutilated more than a dozen men, after you'd been gassed with a substance I was under the impression completely inhibited your strength." Shaking his head, Sal sat back on his heels, "The more I inhale the more effect it has on me, but Tenna-" His voice dropped and he turned his attention to the heap of her remains in the center of the coliseum.

Hugo looked from the body to Sal, "Were you two, eh, a thing?" He asked gently. Sal shook his head, "I think that's what she wanted but no, she was just a friend." Sal brought his gaze back to meet Hugo's, "She knew. About me, I mean, like you do. She was feeding me under the radar." Hugo furrowed his brow, wondering to himself how she was managing to get human remains and smuggle them into the castle kitchen. His curiosity piqued, Hugo made a mental note to investigate it later. "Listen, I've been working on a contingency plan for this situation. Granted, I was hoping to have more time before putting it to the test, or preferably I didn't want to have to use it at all, but I think I can keep Lord Kristoph from sending you back. You didn't attack any civilians, and I can still play my part by protecting you. I'll tell my Lord that I believe I can help you control yourself- shut up I know you can't- by training you privately. I can use that time to feed you, once I figure out how the chamber attendant was pulling it off, and we'll have you on our side for the war."

Hardly daring to hope, Sal let Hugo pull him to his feet. "Why are you willing to take so many risks for me? What the hell is with all of you?" Sal threw his arms up, "What the fuck is so great about me that all of you keep my secret? Why are you helping?" He raised his voice to a shout, the repercussions of his past now on display. Hugo shifted his weight, suddenly looking uncomfortable, "Look lets just go talk to my Lord and see what comes of it, okay?" Not to be deceived, Sal took a step toward Hugo, "What are you hiding?" His voice dropped to a threatening octave as he narrowed his eyes.

Hugo raised his hands and stepped back, "Listen, I can't tell you. It's not my secret to share, too many people are involved. I will say that we all have our reasons, and mine is because I'm your friend. You've become part of our family here. So, please, come with me to see my Lord." His eyes were full of sincerity that Sal loathed to fall for, but fall for it he did, allowing the Squad leader to throw an arm over his shoulders and steer him away from the body of his only other, now diseased, friend.

Kristoph was leaning against his desk, arms crossed, staring at Sal who was sitting in a chair opposite him, staring at the floor. Tolken was seated behind his brother at the desk, Emma standing in the corner beside him, both entirely silent. Kristoph rubbed his face and pushed himself off of his desk, "This situation is very complicated, so let me make it simple. Sal can stay under the condition that you, Hugo, and you alone, can ensure the public and staff's safety. He's your responsibility now, keep in mind that I'm only allowing this because we signed a contract that has not yet been voided on his part, and because of how dire our political climate is now. Have I made myself abundantly clear?"

With a nod and a small bow, Hugo grabbed Sal under his arm and heaved him out of the chair he'd collapsed into. It appeared both the emotional exhaustion of the day's events, and his first encounter with true grief had caught up with him and he'd become nearly unresponsive. Carefully escorting Sal out of the office, Emma felt her heart go with him, having never seen him in shock like this before.

She moved to face Kristoph to ask if she could be dismissed after the door to his office closed, but Tolken stood behind his brother and addressed her, "Did you know about this?" His words venomous. Kristoph looked back at his sibling in surprise before turning to Emma for her answer, a look of disbelief on his face. "No! Of course not! He told me he was a convict, but I never imagined-" Her voice trailed off as she recalled the conversation she and Sal had the night the slept together.

Kristoph frowned at her, "I think you have something to share, Emma." Tolken was seething silently, leaning over the desk and staring at her. "He did tell me he'd killed a lot of people. I don't know if I didn't believe him or if I didn't want to. We drank a lot that night, I guess I had sort of blocked it out because I didn't want to deal with it." Tolken rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath, "You're seriously caught up on him aren't you?" He snapped. Kristoph turned to him with an impatient visage, "Out. Now." Tolken opened his mouth to argue but his brother spoke over him loudly, "Tolken, get out of my office! I've said it twice, I won't say it again."

With a sour glance back, Tolken exited the room and slammed the door. Emma looked back to Kristoph, opening her mouth to apologize, but he held up a hand to stop her. "Why _are_ you so interested in helping him?" His voice calm and collected, but his gaze was intense. "I know what you, and Tolken, are both thinking. I'm not smitten with him, it's not like that. But no one in his life has ever given him the opportunity to be _anything_ more than what they think he is, a monster." Emma took Kristoph's silence as approval to continue, "Think about it, Kristoph, he hasn't hurt anyone since he's been here. He's kept up his end of our contract so far and it's obvious he's growing close to the people in his new life. He and Hugo have become friends, and Tenna was obviously important to him. There's a chance we can make a real person out of him, and he can help us, as he has been."

Emma waited for Kristoph to laugh or sigh, but after a few moments thought, he nodded. "Alright, we'll take this risk. I know you understand the severity here, so please, don't let me regret this." Emma hugged him, "Thank you." Kristoph chuckled and pulled her off him, "You can thank me by finding Tolken and ending his pout party."


	14. Chapter 14

Long after the castle staff had changed shifts, and the sun had gone down, Hugo stalked out of the sleeping quarters for the members of the Elite Squad to find the corridor housing all the rooms for the chamber attendants He had probed some of the cooks over breakfast for information about Tenna, many happy to remember her fondly after her sudden death the day before. It seemed she was well liked by all who knew her, Tenna having worked in nearly all support rolls for the castle. She'd been hired originally to clean but was moved to the kitchen after a large staff walk out. Over time she'd been able to teach others and rebuild the kitchen staff until she was no longer needed, finally being moved to private quarter duties.

Coming to the numbered door that belonged to Tenna, Hugo scoped out the hallway before letting himself in. For a woman that had been so secretive, it was incredibly easy to find answers to his questions, her desk littered with pictures and letters. Leafing through different documents, pictures, and her personal diary, Hugo found she had been trying to contact the group he was a part of. She too had read the published work regarding Sal's curious existence, and had struggled to find the underground establishment that his people had started. When she'd met Sal at the castle she had decided to find the group and contact them before telling Sal about them. Hugo also found her entries about her emotional attachment developing for Sal, eventually becoming romantic interest. The diary went blank after this, and Hugo realized they were from the night before her death. A pang of guilt shot through his heart as he forced himself to move on, finally finding a series of letters from one person in the kitchen who was helping her. Hugo found a name and laid down the letters, leaving the room as it had been before his intrusion.

Sal approached the door to the office where Kristoph had arranged to meet him, but stopped several feet away when it was opened from the inside by the King himself. Several people filtered out thanking him and saying farewells as they exited. Sal sulked in the shadow of a doorway until they had all disappeared, stepping forward to catch Kristoph's eye in the process. Kristoph motioned for him to enter. It was a long conference room with an oval table, Sal sat a few seats away from the head of the table where his host sat. "Those were the civilians from the incident. We've arranged a settlement for their cooperation in keeping this confidential." Kristoph explained as he leaned back in his chair. Sal nodded and waited for him to continue, not entirely sure why he was here. "I need to speak with you about everything. I need to know as much as you do about you if I'm going to trust you with the safety of my friends and the longevity of my country."

Staring at Kristoph's sharp blue eyes, Sal tried to find a place to start. "I think its best if you just ask questions and I answer. I don't even know what the beginning is anymore." Kristoph gestured in neutral agreement, "What are you?" Was where he chose to start. "As far as I can tell I'm human. I just eat other humans." Sal shrugged. "How old are you?" Kristoph waved a hand at him before returning his hands to their fingertips together. "Somewhere in the range of four-hundred years old. I'm not entirely caught up on how much time has passed since I was incarcerated." Sal rested one ankle on the opposite knee and relaxed in his chair. "Why were you incarcerated?" Kristoph took lead from his answer.

Knowing this would have to be a legitimate answer, Sal took a deep breath before answering. "I've been wanted for my lifestyle for centuries. It took almost two-hundred years before the government connected all the reported deaths and mutilations to me, and for them all to agree I actually existed. They tried putting out a ton of warnings but I knew how to hide. They put out bounties and that just kept me entertained. They made a task force specially trained to hunt me. I picked them off one at a time for fun." Sal paused to frown at himself, realizing how sick he sounded to himself now. "That was the last straw. When they finally decided to start taking me seriously." Kristoph leaned forward to listen closely. "They hired a handful of scientists to make that gas. I killed them too, but too late to stop the production. Once they trapped me in a room with a full aerosol canister of it I was done for. I went unconscious in seconds and woke up a few days later in the white room..."

Kristoph watched Sal's eyes gloss over as he disappeared into his thoughts. He continued to speak, despite appearing to be miles away mentally. "They restrained both my hands and my feet in steel bearings, fists attached to the ceiling, feet to the floor. They designed a special gas mask for me, a mix of metals and alloys to be stronger than anything else in my cell. If I moved too much, got loose, or raised my voice, they'd gas me. Once I was locked in tight they left me in the white room, pitch black. I spent most of my time in the dark, they came once every now and then to hose me down. At first they tried to feed me but food just makes me sick, so eventually they quit being in me anything. I wasn't allowed visitors, nor was I ever released for recreation. I just stayed there, hangin' in the quiet dark." Sal went silent and was staring at nothing now. Kristoph felt like this conversation answered more than he had hoped it would.

Hugo found Kristoph as he was saying goodnight to Sal, barely greeting either before requesting a meeting with the Elite Squad first thing in the morning. Kristoph agreed and before he could question him about the sudden urgency, Hugo nodded at them both and slipped away back down the hall. Sal and Kristoph exchanged looks of confusion before parting for bed. Sal collapsed on his bed feeling numb, having shut down while talking about the prison again. Every time his thoughts circled back to that room he felt his limbs go cold and his heart would race. Now that the ones who were after him knew where he was they would pursue him relentlessly. They'd already successfully stormed the castle, granted the castle now was more of a live-in office building than a stronghold. He couldn't shake the thought that his only option now was to take on those surviving the memory of his crimes.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments to help me grow my OC and his universe!


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